


Cry Baby

by pink___stardust



Series: Accepting yourself is no easy task [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Named Reader, Panic Attacks, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader has bad anxiety issues, reader identifies as female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pink___stardust/pseuds/pink___stardust
Summary: Tears always came easily to you ever since you were a child. Fighting through life feeling misunderstood and alone, a deep sense of despair and overwhelming sadness became your most common reason for crying.After all, nobody climbs Mt. Ebott for a happy reason. You were no exception.But perhaps what awaits you in that dark abyss is not your death, but your rebirth. Aided by colorful characters as you navigate the Underground, you rediscover joys you thought were lost to you and are confronted by the very essence of your being – and must decide whether to let it wither, or to let it bloom.A Rewrite of "Crybaby".
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Original Female Character(s), Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Series: Accepting yourself is no easy task [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/405457
Comments: 36
Kudos: 100





	1. Falling Down

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I've officially returned to Undertale and, given the positive feedback I had on "Crybaby", I've decided to rewrite it and, if everything goes accoring to plan, continue it! The bulk of the first 14 chapters remains the same, but I've changed some key elements that will become more obvious in the future. Thank you all for your support and I hope you'll stick around to see what I do with this story!

Logically speaking, this was, of course, a horrible idea.

But logic had long ago given away to panic. Which was why, on a chilly spring night, you stuffed as much of your belongings and clothing your ratty old backpack could hold and took off into Mt. Ebott.

Dry leaves crinkled under your feet like small firecrackers as you desperately tried to put as much distance between yourself and your apartment complex as humanly possible. Getting out was easy – your aunt was out, so you didn’t even have to lie through your teeth to justify why you were leaving – but as soon as she arrived and realized you were missing, you knew she’d call your parents and then they’d be on your tail. After all, the most common denominator between missing people in the town of Ebott was their final known destination – its namesake mount.

And why wouldn’t it be? All of the local legends and folklore surrounding Mt. Ebott: beautiful and terrifying tales woven through time that captivated generation after generation, they were a substantial part of your culture. As such, it seemed almost fitting – almost like fate – that lives which had always been so connected to Mt. Ebott would find their resting place there. And then, they became part of the legend too.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

But that worked in your favor as well. All you had to do was to cross that boundary, the line from which the mount officially began. The police didn’t bother to search past there; the terrain was too steep for cars, the foliage too dense for helicopters. And, of course, the fearful respect for Mt. Ebott and its stories also kept them at bay. It was a place of no return, of guaranteed death.

You stepped beyond the boundary with the glee of an Olympic runner crossing the finish line.

That was fine with you. Your intention was, after all, to disappear.

It wasn’t, however, to trip on a vine and fall face first into mud. You had already suffered enough humiliation for a lifetime, thank you very much.

And it most certainly wasn’t to discover you weren’t going to fall face first into mud, but into a pitch black, rocky abyss. It wasn’t supposed to end like this – you weren’t even sure if you wanted it to end, you just wanted to get away, needed to be away from people and their cruel words and fake concern and useless adults and society’s almost pathological hatred of anyone even slightly different, for once you wanted to have some form of control over your life-

You blacked out before you reached the ground.

* * *

You woke up with a faceful of yellow and mouthful of petals and pollen. You (ungracefully) spat out the contents of your mouth, which you immediately regretted thanks to the stinging pain that traveled from your neck down to your spine. You seemed to have hurt your back. How delightful. (Hey, at least you weren’t paralyzed, right? But then again, optimism had never been your forte.)

Gingerly rolling to your side, you realized you had fallen onto a soft bed of golden flowers (buttercups? oh man, now you were really happy you had spat out the petals), which somewhat explained your lack of injuries, except for a few scrapes and back pain, for someone who had apparently fallen down three-to-four stories deep into the earth.

“Oh my… another child? So soon? But how… why…” The sound of feet shuffling through soft leaves echoed in the cave. You froze up in fear and embarrassment, suddenly feeling like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. How the hell had they found you? You were pretty sure you had crossed the boundary, but could you really trust your memory after a fall like that?

Were they going to yell at you? Tell you how you were so selfish for worrying your family, how you needed to grow up and realize how privileged you were for not being born in a war-torn country, for not being hungry or poor, so you had no excuse to be sad? You sheepishly turned your head in the footsteps’ direction…

…and saw not a policeman, not your aunt, and definitely _not_ your parents.

A goat woman stared at you, confused and worried and hurt (why hurt?).

Or maybe she stared through you, like she had a painful wound that had just been reopened, and you were like a thorn that had gotten stuck and was making it worse. Or maybe you were making it all up, delusional from anxiety and anguish and a three-to-four stories high fall. Hell if you knew.

You blacked out again.


	2. Heartache, and a Black Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the second chapter! i was planning on posting it this sunday but decided to post it earlier instead because everyone's reactions left me super excited.   
> come talk to me on tumblr, my handle is pink---stardust! also, if you like this story, do comment! feedback is always appreciated.

_A black void. Emptiness surrounded you._

_You tried to scream. No sound left you._

_From blackness, a pale hand. With slow, deliberate movements, it beckoned you._

_You stared at the hand. It hurt to look._

_Something was_ wrong _with it._

_The hand repeated its motions, hurriedly. Painfully._

_The void began to collapse. The hand melted into nothingness, and was replaced by a distorted face. A voice whispered to you in a language you didn’t understand._

_You covered your ears. But the voice was not deterred, its garbled words echoing directly in your brain._

_Before the collapsing void could swallow you, you woke up._

* * *

Your unpleasant dream was interrupted by a delicious smell invading your nostrils. As your brain jumpstarted from unconsciousness, you numbly realized you were comfortably snuggled in what had to be the softest mattress in the whole world - no, the whole _universe_ \- and essentially cocooned in an assortment of various blankets. You felt like a very satisfied caterpillar. Nope, you were not getting up. It felt so safe there – on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house.

You let the ridiculousness of the situation sink in. (Or “float in”. You were way too relaxed for anything to feel remotely heavy, metaphorically and literally.)

You had fallen through a hole on the ground, passed out, nearly condemned yourself to a painful death by diarrhea courtesy of buttercups, seen a bipedal goat and passed out _again_. And now, you were in a bedroom god knows where, and yet couldn’t care less about it because you were so damn comfy. And it smelled really nice, a sentiment your stomach agreed with by rumbling very loudly.

After what felt like a good ten minutes of internally debating with yourself whether eating whatever was giving off that mouth-watering scent was worth leaving your blanket nest for, you unwrapped yourself and slowly got up. You noted your back pain had ceased.

You fumbled a bit looking for your shoes (whoever had brought you there had apparently taken them off, probably not to dirty the sheets) and slipped them on, then carefully opened the door and stepped into the lit hallway.

The first thing you noticed was a large mirror, which covered the whole wall length-wise to your left. Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to make yourself at least a little bit presentable, you approached it.

Your hair was understandably a mess, with leaves and broken twigs stuck in its knots, while your clothes were caked in dirt and mud from your tumble down the hole (so much for not dirtying the sheets). You sighed dejectedly at your sorry state, then straightened your sweater and finally checked your pockets for your cellphone. By some miracle, it wasn’t broken, but it predictably had no reception. You shrugged and turned it off, stuffing it back into your pocket.

Looking in the mirror a last time, you attempted a smile. You ended up grimacing, and in the back of your mind, you expected a crack to form on the clear surface. The real world didn’t bother amusing your self-deprecating imagination, so you began making your way deeper into the house.

* * *

Toriel was a nice person. Er, monster. A nice monster.

You found her in the living room, sitting contently in an armchair and reading a book (about snails? You didn’t have time to properly read the title) through small glasses. You were halfway through the doorway when she noticed your presence and ran up to you, barraging you with endless inquiries about your well-being before realizing that she hadn’t introduced herself, much to her own embarrassment. Thankfully, she was so caught up in her impoliteness she hadn’t realized that she had positively terrified you. After all, you’d never seen a monster, much less one that easily towered over you. However, that intimidation rapidly dissipated when faced with the goat woman- ahem, Toriel’s kindness. And cuteness.

Seriously, she was so cute.

It turned out that Toriel had baked a pie (cinnamon-butterscotch) and patiently explained to you the basics of your situation as you ate: how you had fallen into the Underground, how humans had banished monsters there, how she lived alone in the Ruins (she didn’t mention why and the sadness in her voice prevented you from asking). You were transfixed both by how much Toriel’s tale matched the legends you’d known by heart since childhood and the ease and fluidity with which she told it.

The thought that she would make a good teacher crossed your mind.

When she finished speaking, Toriel hesitated. She opened her mouth to talk, but the words died in her throat. She closed her mouth and for a moment, her features were overwhelmed by an old sadness, the kind that haunts someone for years and years, born from old wounds, but there was a certain freshness to it. You wanted to hug her, but felt too awkward and resorted to simply looking down at your plate, studying the crumbs of cinnamon-butterscotch pie while Toriel regained her composure.

Eventually, Toriel excused herself and retreated where you assumed was her bedroom. She returned a few minutes later and handed your backpack (you had nearly forgotten about it!) and an old-looking phone (monsters had phones? Neat). You looked up at her questioningly.

“I will lead to you the end of the Ruins.” She spoke softly “But I cannot leave. So please, take my cell phone. I have a friend – if you find yourself in trouble, please, do not hesitate to call them. They will come to your aid.” You nodded.

The walk to the gate was quiet. You had the feeling Toriel wanted to say more, but if she did speak, she would be sad again – look at you completely heartbroken again – so you honored her silence.

“Wait-” You turned your head so fast you swore you nearly gave yourself whiplash. Toriel looked sheepishly at you. “I do not wish to impose but-” she averted her eyes, swallowing a lump in her throat. “If you see another child… please, look after them.” You raised your eyebrows. Another child? So another human had fallen down?

You opened your mouth to ask, but one look at Toriel’s watery eyes and it snapped shut faster than you could process it. “I… of course I will. Don’t worry.” She was going to worry.

She opened the gate and you stepped forward.

“Goodbye, my child.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She closed the gate.

Toriel was a lonely person. A lonely monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanna hug goat mom, but alas, we've got a skeleton to meet. see you next time!


	3. A Comedian Saves the Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember how i tagged this work with "Reader has bad anxiety issues" and "Panic Attacks"? yeah, this chapter is one of the many reasons why i did so. i draw heavily from experience when writing about these issues as i've struggled with them myself since i was a teenager. i'm in a much better place mentally than i was back then, thankfully. to anyone reading this who has also gone through or is going through this - you are not alone.

The Underground perplexed you. Here you were, deep inside the Earth, and it was _snowing_.

Part of you was delighted – you loved snow, how it covered the landscape in a pristine white, how soft it was under your feet, not to mention you absolutely adored making snow angels and having sleigh races down the hills! The other part – the one you fondly nicknamed “the boring adult” due to its tendency to discard the wonder and magic in the world in favor of hard logic and cynicism – was wracking its brain trying to figure out how the hell there could be snow without clouds.

You settled for a simple explanation: magic! (The fact that magic actually existed had you giddier than a kid waiting to open their presents on Christmas day.)

You trotted down the small forest road, alternating between sinking your feet into the snowy path as hard as you could and walking so fast you barely left footprints. You giggled childishly at the trail you left behind. Looking at it, you felt peaceful. It proved you were there. It proved you existed – people could try, but they could never make a trail exactly like yours.

It couldn’t be ignored.

Hurtful memories bubbled under the surface.

_“You’re too much work.”_

_“Gosh, you’re so weird! No wonder everyone leaves you.”_

_“You can’t even hold a proper conversation, can you? What an awkward girl.”_

(shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP)

Hot tears spilled into the snow, creating pinprick-like holes. Small, small holes. You felt small.

Soon, your sobs became uncontrollable and your knees buckled, unable to hold up under the weight of your emotions. Feeling heavier than lead, you collapsed onto the snow, desperately hugging your shoulders, clawing at your sleeves. You were trapped in a bubble of your despair, and it was going to swallow you whole, drive you insane- you were so angry and _sad_ and your emotions boiled and overflowed and it was unbearably hot and unbearably cold, your chest hurt like an extra organ had suddenly grown there, cancerous and unwanted _just like you_ and it was growing and crushing your heart and lungs- god you could barely breathe-

You knew from the moment you left the safety and warmth of the bed in Toriel’s house it was only a matter of time until your anxiety caught up with you. You felt it crawling under your skin like a million fire ants were feasting upon your flesh, but you didn’t expect it to be a miserable ten meters from the Ruins.

Toriel, Toriel, you wanted to call for Toriel, you wanted her to hold you, feel her fur caress your skin, be showered in motherly love, but you knew she wouldn’t come (why would she? Why would anyone come for you? Hell, you bet you aunt and parents were delighted the moment they realized you ran away, you were such a troublesome girl, not worth shit, why couldn’t you be like other girls your age? Why couldn’t you like normal things, be vibrant and cheerful, talk about makeup, talk about boys, why? Were you born just to be miserable?)

_“I have a friend – if you find yourself in trouble, please, do not hesitate to call them. They will come to your aid.”_

Toriel’s words rang in your head.

Should you? Should you really bother someone just because you were so pitiful you could be overcome by an anxiety attack out of the blue, so weak you couldn’t snap yourself out of it and _get a fucking move on_?

You retrieved Toriel’s cellphone from your backpack with shaking hands. You had to act fast, before you lost your nerve. You pressed the menu button and were greeted with a single contact.

‘My friend from the door’.

* * *

When you calmed yourself just enough to be able to articulate a sentence that didn’t sound like complete gibberish, you pressed the call button.

_One ring_. This was a stupid idea.

_Two rings_. Congratulations! You reached a new low!

_Three rings_. Better stomp on that ridiculous hope you have that someone might answer.

_Four rings_. Weird, huh? Despite being a born pessimist, you still clung to small hopes like these.

_Five rings_. That’s why you kept getting hurt.

_Six rings_. But nobody came-

“knock knock.”

What.

“you’re supposed to ask ‘who’s there’.”

Double what.

“what’s the matter? feeling bonely?”

What in the actual fuck.

“hey, are you alright?”

No, definitely not.

There was a small pause. “who are you?” Oh, you spoke out loud.

“Toriel said you’d help.” A new wave of sobs threatened to break out. “Please help.”

“on my way. hang tight, kid.”

* * *

Seconds passed by agonizingly slow. You gripped your sweater with such force you thought you might just rip out the fabric by accident. Your cheeks were chilly from the tears and frigid wind blowing in your face. A hand grabbed your shoulder.

Wait, what?

With reflexes you most certainly didn’t know you possessed, you managed to both whip around and jump backwards a solid meter away from your assailant.

Which was a skeleton. A big boned, short skeleton (probably a few centimeters shorter than you) wearing a blue parka, a white shirt, black basketball shorts and… slippers? In the snow?

Oh, and a huge, huge grin.

“heh. sorry kid. didn’t mean to make ya jump outta your skin.” Was that a pun? Oh, like the “bonely” one on the phone?

“what’s the matter? skeleton got your tongue?” Oh god. He winked. A skeleton winked at you – without eyes! – and was making puns.

After a few beats, you realized he expected a response. “Oh! Uh, hi?” Ten points for eloquence.

Somehow, the skeleton’s grin widened. “hi.” He extended his hand to help you get off your butt. You gladly accepted it, you were beginning to lose feeling in your rear end. Then two things happened.

First, he practically hauled you to your feet (holy shit, he was strong!).

Second, the sound of what had to be a really nasty fart echoed throughout the forest. Your jaw slacked open. The skeleton grinned so hard his skull might just split. He let go of your hand, then held it up for you to see.

A whoopee cushion.

A boney hand closed your jaw. “stay like that and a family of flies will settle in.” He winked again.

Then, without warning, you burst out laughing.

It wasn’t a cute laugh. It was a hysterical, quasi-manic laughter that bounced of the trees and made your ears hurt.

“A… a whoopee cushion!” you wheezed between laughs. “A fucking whoopee cushion…!” You doubled over, gripping your stomach. “I can’t even..!” The skeleton stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking mighty smug. “glad to know i cheered you up.”

You nodded. You felt positively amazing, any and all traces of your anxiety having left your body and mind (except for that tiny, nagging voice in the back of your head you had learned to ignore with expertise). “Thank you, uh…” you blushed when the realization that you didn’t even know his name hit you.

“sans. sans the skeleton.” He held up his hand for a handshake once again. You eyed it suspiciously. “no whoopee cushion this time. swear it on my heart. if i had one.” You burst into another undignified fit of giggles, then shook his hand.

“I’m Mina. Nice to meet you, Sans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we finally meet sans! also yeah, i changed the reader's name. she just felt so different from when i first wrote her (even if it doesn't seem so right now) that she's like a completely different person and as such deserved a new name.  
> as always, if you like this story, please do comment! i always get so happy when i get a notification for a new comment, it makes my day! also, come talk to me on tumblr at pink---stardust!  
> see you next time!


	4. Bonetrousle, and an Unexpected Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello, i'm back with another chapter! i hope you enjoy it :) Please do keep the comments coming~!

“….so that’s how pap had to scrub the kitchen floor for five days till he could get rid of all the glitter.” Sans did a flourish to accentuate his story, while you dissolved into laughter for the umpteenth time.

After your… _unusual_ introduction, Sans had confirmed your suspicion that there was, in fact, another human in the Underground – more specifically, in the town of Snowdin.

Oh, and his brother was trying to capture them as a means of being accepted in the Royal Guard by impressing his mentor Undyne. So, apparently, humans were in high demand in the Underground.

Nevertheless, Sans had assured you that not only was his brother essentially harmless, but Sans himself was too lazy to attempt anything of the sort with you. Considering he had been pretty friendly so far and could have easily taken advantage of your panic-stricken self, you decided to trust the stereotypical personification of death.

Hm. Perhaps the fall had impaired your judgment?

Anyway, that’s how Sans became your tour guide, so to speak, escorting you through Snowdin with puns, snark and the occasional anecdote about his brother Papyrus (who he made no attempt to hide how much he loved. It was really endearing). You even ended up meeting other monsters: an armless, dinosaur-like energetic child named…well… Monster Kid, and the armor-clad Greater Dog and Lesser Dog (who Sans had to physically restrain you from petting any more, but seriously, the way it stretched its neck was just so fascinating! Your intention was merely to test its limits! For science!)

“You’ve got to be shitting me…!” you managed to articulate as you wiped away tears of mirth from the corners of your eyes. “i couldn’t if i tried.” You elbowed him in the ribs and covered your face as your speech devolved into incoherent giggles. (which was becoming a habit now. It’s not your fault the guy was a bone-afied comedian! Great, now you were making puns in your head. Hope you’re proud, Sans.)

“hey, I’m patelling ya the truth kid!” He earned himself an elbow in the ribs again, this time with a side of pouting.

“Don’t call me kid, I’m an _adult_.” You emphasized the word with a pointed look. You hated being treated like a kid when you were already a grown woman with her own thoughts and feelings. You were too used to others dismissing your opinions based on your age.

Sans shrugged “sure. got no bones to pick with you…” he shot you a shit-eating grin. Oh, hell no! “…kiddo!”

You planted your feet on the ground, stopping abruptly, then fixed Sans with your best glare. He blinked innocently. Little shit.

Slowly, deliberately, you stomped up to him, allowing the heavy footprints to convey your anger. Sans gulped (with no throat. Somehow.), little beads of sweat beginning to dot the side of his skull.

Now, that’s better.

“c’mon mina, it was a joke...” He muttered once you were directly in front of him, mere centimeters separating your bodies. You noticed he seemed to radiate heat like a normal human being. You decided to hold onto that discovery for future reference. Right now, you had one goal – you were a woman on a mission and not even divine intervention could stop you!

You yanked the hood of Sans’ jacket over his head, then pulled the strings until only his grin could be seen. You trapped him in a prison of cotton and fluff. Sweet victory!

You marveled for a few moments in your genius contraption, yet was rudely interrupted by Sans’ loud snoring.

Snoring.

He fell asleep.

You pulled the prank of the century (well, not really) and he fell asleep.

All of your pride was replaced by a newfound fury (and embarrassment) setting your cheeks aflame. No. You had to be the responsible adult. Take the high road, Mina, don’t let him win. Breathe in, breathe out. Rinse and repeat. That’s better.

You loosened the hood and pulled it down. Sans’ eyesockets snaped open (weeeird) and he eyed you mischievously. “how nice of you to let me nap.” The shit-eating grin was back. You puffed your cheeks out in annoyance. “Yeah, yeah, bone man, now take me to see the other human like you promised, ‘kay?”

“sure thing. but I gotta do something first.” For some reason, his tone was disconcerting and you were pretty sure you’d began sweating. How the tables have turned. “Wha-what is it?” Great, now you were stuttering too.

Hard phalanges grabbed the back of your waist and pulled you towards him. You stumbled, startled and confused and, to be honest, a little curious. He leaned forward, his warm breath tickling your ear and confusing you even more because he didn’t have lungs? What was happening? Was he – oh god – going to hit on you? A skeleton was hitting on you?

And you kind of liked it?

(Were that desperate for love that you’d take it from the first person – or monster – that showed you kindness?)

His hand snaked up your back and you did a pathetic attempt of suppressing a shiver “get…” he whispered-

-then yanked the hood of your sweater and pulled the strings, trapping you in a prison of cotton, shame and figurative question marks. “…dunked on!” You could hear the smug satisfaction in his voice. That! Little! Shit!

“SAAAANNNNNNNNNS!” You could’ve won an Oscar for your flawless imitation of a banshee’s scream, but alas, you were too busy blindly chasing a walking, talking, laughing skeleton.

And you kind of liked it.

* * *

“HUMAN. ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS.” You winced at the voice’s volume. Gosh, was there a reason to be so loud? You couldn’t even see the person – monster – oh, whatever! The idea was, you weren’t sure your eardrums would be able to withstand being in close proximity.

“heh. guess we found my brother.” Sans smiled fondly in the booming voice’s direction.

“I figured from what you said he was pretty intense, but still…” You rubbed your ears for extra emphasis.

“how many tenses?”

“I’m leaving you behind.”

* * *

Papyrus was huge. Standing at practically twice Sans’ height, with a slimmer face and body, adorned by his fabled “battle suit”: a weird-looking white shirt, black leggings, red booty shorts slash underwear slash swimwear (?), an admittedly cool red scarf which seemed to be able to summon dramatic wind on Papyrus’ whim, gloves, and, of course, boots.

“my bro's pretty cool, huh?” Sans prodded your side and you raised your eyebrows. Faced with the affection in his voice, you couldn’t help but agree.

You turned your attention back to the larger skeleton. In front of him, with their back to you, was a small child.

Your heart skipped a beat and the world froze.

You could feel Sans tugging on your sleeve and worriedly calling out your name, but despite the physical stimuli, he felt distant, as if he was standing behind a glass wall.

You stepped forward.

Short brown hair in a messy bob cut. Striped purple shirt.

Sans grabbed your hood, something about fighting and dangerous.

Your lips quivered.

“Frisk?” Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. It came out in broken hiccups.

When had you started crying?

Frisk whipped around, their little eyes nearly bulging out of its sockets. This got Papyrus’ attention.

“A-ANOTHER HUMAN?! WOWIE! SANS, CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?” You were too shocked to register Papyrus’ excited gesticulations to his brother. “i know bro. I know.” The lights in Sans eyes pinballed between you and Frisk, the cogs in his skull turning.

Frisk made the first move.

They ran towards you, head slamming right into your ribcage but you couldn’t care less. Tiny hands grasped at your middle while you tangled one hand in their hair and wrapped another around their shoulders.

Frisk was alive.

Frisk was here, with you, washing your sweater in tears and snot, and it was gross and it was the most wonderful sensation in the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun! frisk and mina know each other! what is their relationship like, i wonder? you'll see in the next chapter!   
> also i totally forgot to say this before, but please forgive possible gramatical errors and weird phrasing, english is not my first language.  
> see you next time!


	5. Two Lonely Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, i'm back~! i decided to rewrite the summary, i hope it's better now. please do keep commenting and feel free to come talk to me on tumblr at pink---stardust.tumblr.com!

_You kicked idly at random pebbles from your seat on the swing set. Today had been another wonderful emotional rollercoaster of self-loathing, cheerfulness and more self-loathing. One moment you were ready to take on the world, powering through your college classes, then something ridiculously trivial happened and all you wanted to do was to lock yourself inside a bathroom stall and cry until the day ended._

_Now you were just apathetic from being emotionally spent, doing a sorry job of swinging and kicking your frustration away before you took it out on an innocent person (AKA your poor aunt, who was just doing her best trying to support you)._

_She wasn’t at fault. You were the problem._

_Seemingly out of the blue, a child approached you. They looked about eight or nine, but it was hard to tell with the oversized purple stripped shirt they wore, from under which you could barely make out black shorts. Their chin-length brown hair was a bit disheveled, chocolate eyes shining in a way only a child’s eyes can._

_They nearly tripped over their untied shoelaces, but caught themselves at the last moment. They glared at the offending pieces of string, then dropped to one knee to tie them. You stifled a laugh. The kid was just too cute._

_Satisfied with their task’s completion, they resumed walking in your direction. They stopped, then pointed at the other swing, cocking their head. Oh, were they asking for permission to sit down?_

_“Uh, sure, go ahead.” You mumbled. The child beamed at you, quickly hopping on the swing. They began to make rapid gestures you recognized as sign language, before abruptly ceasing their motions and flushing. A lightbulb flashed in your head: the kid, in their excitement to talk to you, had started signing without even knowing if you understood them._

_An idea occurred to you. “Hey, can you hear me?” They looked up at you and nodded. You took out your phone and extended it to them. “I, uh, don’t know sign language but maybe you can type in what you want to say?”_

_The ensuing smile was worth a million words._

_Soon, they were typing away on your phone with glee. Uh. You had just given your phone, no questions asked, to an elementary school student. You should probably rethink your decision-making skills._

_Your line of thought was disrupted when a bright screen was thrust towards your face. [I’m Frisk! What’s your name? How old are you? What’s your favorite color? Would you rather be a shark with laser beams or a super robot?] You snorted inelegantly at the last one. Frisk pouted. You had a mighty urge to pinch their cheeks._

_“Sorry, not making fun of you. It’s just a lot at once, I guess.” Frisk accepted your response with a quirk of their mouth. “Well, my name is Mina, I’m twenty-one years old, my favorite color is green and I’d rather be a super robot shark with arm cannons and lasers!”_

_You extended your arms, doing finger guns in Frisk’s direction and (badly) imitating the sound of lasers from movies. Frisk giggled soundlessly in approval. They started typing again._

_[Now you ask me questions!] the screen read. You tapped your chin in thought while Frisk watched you intently, fingers poised over the cellphone’s screen, ready to type the moment you started speaking._

_“Hmm, let’s see. I already know your name. Are you a boy or a girl?” Frisk didn’t even need to write. They simply shrugged and smiled._

_“Fair enough. Age and favorite color?”_

_[Eight and the whooooole rainbow!!!! But red especially!]”_

_“Would you rather be a dragon or a unicorn?”_

_[A unicorn that breathes fire and has wings like a dragon!]_

_“Pfft, you got me kid.”_

_You talked until sundown._

* * *

_Meeting up with Frisk became a part of your routine. Sometimes you talked until your throat was raw and Frisk’s thumbs hurt, sometimes you just sat in silent companionship._

_Frisk was over the moon when you asked them to teach you sign language. Their little hands trembled and their eyes watered as they slowly went through the alphabet. You got the hang of it pretty quickly; people could criticize your social skills all they wanted, but they couldn’t deny you were a damn smart woman._

_But you weren’t just friends. You were each other’s support._

_Frisk rubbed your back as your sobs rattled the rusty chains of the old swing set (they didn’t ask why you cried. They probably knew you wouldn’t answer)._

_You commended Frisk's courage while bandaging their cuts and scrapes and tending to their bruises (you did ask how they got hurt, and didn’t buy it when they said it was from playing. You should’ve known they wouldn’t answer)._

_When everyone else judged, you tried to understand._

_When everyone else hurt, you did your best to pick up the pieces._

_When everyone else was poison, you were the other’s medicine._

_Then, eleven months later, Frisk disappeared._

* * *

It took a while until either of you were able to form a coherent sentence. Papyrus left, shouting at his brother that the Great Papyrus would postpone his fight with the smaller human until they and the taller human felt better. Sans answered with a simple “sure bro” and settled against a tree.

You could swear Papyrus’ voice quivered a little. 

“I missed you, squirt.” You whispered to Frisk, stroking their hair. Frisk wriggled in your embrace just enough to free their hands. **“I missed you too, Mina.”** they signed.

Suddenly, Frisk frowned and ultimately paled. They had been so happy to see you it hadn’t dawned on them yet that you being in Snowdin implied you had to have fallen down. That in itself implied many other things. None of them were pleasant.

Their hands’ movements were strained as they formulated the dreaded question.

**“Why are you here? Why did you climb Mt. Ebott?”** You flinched unconsciously and swallowed. Your throat was unbearably dry. Of course they’d ask.

“That… it’s…” You licked your lips, desperate for any kind of moisture. Your tongue felt like sandpaper.

How could you tell _that_ to a nine year old?

“It... wasn’t for a happy reason, Frisk.”

They balled their hands into fists and uncurled them again, lost in deep thought over your vague, but true admission. Finally, their shoulders sagged. **“I’m sorry for asking.”**

You cringed at Frisk’s sorrowful tone. You hadn’t meant to turn your reunion into a pity party, much less upset Frisk. “Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You asked because you care, right?” Frisk nodded their head furiously at this. You chuckled. “I care about you too. So I’m going to ask you as well.” You did your best to sound stern.

Frisk tensed.

“Why did you climb Mt. Ebott?”

Frisk closed their eyes.

**“It wasn’t for a happy reason.”**

You smiled wryly and stroked their hair. Frisk leaned into your touch. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

A few more minutes went by, during which you and Frisk spoke of inconsequential things. Silly subjects, meaningless themes. You were just soaking in each other’s presence, making up for lost time.

* * *

“welp, i don’t mean tibia rude, but papyrus is probably getting bonely.”

You narrowly avoided shrieking Frisk’s ears off in fright, having been so engrossed in your conversation you hadn’t even noticed Sans had gotten up at some point and decided to stand directly behind you. “oops, sorry, mina. i’m not getting under your skin, am i?”

Oh, it was on.

You took a deep breath. “Are you sure ulna-ot the bonely one, Sans?” His eye sockets widened. Nice. “Cause I have a feeling you’re fibula-ing to me!” Don’t laugh now, finish him! “Also, if you sneak up on me again, I’ll pun-ch you.”

Sans’ jaw dropped. He stared at the cavern’s ceiling before sighing theatrically. “I’m a proud pun-rent.”

Then Papyrus hastily leapt from behind a tree.

“HUMAN! DO NOT ENCOURAGE HIM!” the tall skeleton glowered.

You gawked at him, scandalized.

“Were you eavesdropping? How rude!” Frisk shook with what you supposed was laughter, while Papyrus’ cheekbones were invaded by a bright orange color. Was he blushing?

“TA-TALLER HUMAN!” he all but squeaked, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NEVER STOOP SO LOW AS TO EAVESDROP! I WAS MERELY EXERCISING BEHIND THAT CONVINIENTLY PLACED TREE THAT ALLOWED ME TO BE IN EARSHOT OF YOUR CONVERSATION WITH THE SMALLER HUMAN!” Beat. “FOR MY TRAINING!” What a horrible liar.

Sans snickered. “but, bro.”

“YES BROTHER?” Papyrus was sweating orange. Profusely, might you add.

“why do you exercise…” Sans stopped to wink at you. Oh dear. “…if you have no muscles?” Papyrus gaped.

Then he screamed.

“SAAAAAAAAAAAANNS!!”

* * *

“I don’t like this.” You hissed through gritted teeth.

“SMALLER HUMAN!” Wind whipped behind Papyrus, making his scarf blow dramatically behind him. That really was a useful skill. Maybe he could teach you? Wait, no, focus, Mina. “AS I WAS SAYING, ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS.”

“relax. frisk’s got this covered” Sans glanced at you from the corner of his eye socket. “besides, paps would never hurt them. he’s too kind-hearted.”

Papyrus continued with his speech, but you were too agitated to pay attention. “I’m not questioning your brother’s kindness. I’m questioning the fact that I let you convince me to say on the sidelines while a _child_ fights for my freedom.”

“i told you, if anything goes wrong – which it won’t – i’ll step in.”

You whined pitifully. “But still…!”

Sans grabbed your hand. You glared, but didn’t stop him. He sighed.

“mina” Sans began rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on the back your hand. It was strangely soft. “trust me. frisk will pull through. you’re not determined enough to do this.” He indicated Frisk’s and Papyrus’ standoff with a jerk of his skull.

“What is that even supposed to mean, ‘not determined enough’?” you whispered. Despite yourself, you could feel the tension leaving your body, its vine-like grip loosening over you. “And how do you know?”

Sans faced you with an indescribable expression.

“i just do.”

You were not sure how to feel about that statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up it's the frisk vs papyrus fight! how will mina react? what will sans do? see for yourself in the next chapter~!


	6. Bonetrousle Redux, and New Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! i'm back with another chapter! today is a holiday in my country, but even so i have to study. that's college for you. please do keep commenting and come talk to me at pink---stardust.tumblr.com!

Bright red and glowing. A cartoonish heart.

Frisk isn’t surprised. You are.

Pulling, pulling. Your chest is uncomfortably warm.

You can’t breathe. Feels like your torax is gonna split. 

So much pressure, ready to burst. You want it to be over, but you’ll be vulnerable if it does.

Why?

Sans’ grip tightens and he pulls you behind his back. You breathe.

“better stay behind me, pal. papyrus is harmless, but his magic is strong. your SOUL nearly came out even though you’re not fighting.” His voice had a tinge of pride to it. 

You were panting heavily. It was as if all of the oxygen in your blood had been violently sucked out, leaving your knees weak and lungs terribly sore. No matter how deeply you inhaled, there was never enough air to replace it. You slumped forward in exhaustion. In comparison, though, Frisk’s body language conveyed no physical stress. How was that even possible? You knew you were no star athlete, but this was just ridiculous.

“don’t push yourself. it’ll stop after a while.” Sans began rubbing your back like he had done with your hand just moments ago, positioning himself so he was still blocking what you were starting to recognize as waves of Papyrus’ magic from you. “given your reaction, i guess you’ve never had your SOUL pulled out, have you?” You shook your head in disbelief. Monsters could make your soul leave your body?

Just in how much danger was Frisk in?

“How is Frisk…?” You wheezed out. 

“cool as a cucumber. take a look for yourself.” You straightened yourself, perhaps a little too quickly as stars danced in the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away furiously. Sans kept a hand behind your back, steadying you.

And, just as Sans said, Frisk was fine. Papyrus was levitating and throwing gigantic bones in their direction, which they dodged gracefully. In front of Frisk, a tiny red heart swayed in sync with their movements. In other words, it looked as if Frisk and Papyrus were merely aggressively playing dodgeball. With dinosaur bones.

Monster fights were _weird_.

“Hey Sans, that heart, is that Frisk’s SOUL?” You inquired. When only silence greeted you, you nudged San’s ribcage with your elbow, unwilling to look away from the fight in fear the second you took your eyes off Frisk it would spell their doom.

“huh?” Sans sounded... out of it. You snuck a glance at him. Blue sweat was dripping down his skull, the lights in his eyes dimmed. He looked… zoned out. In a trance. Watching something unravel before his eye sockets that you couldn’t see.

(Goosebumps spread like wildfire over your body. This is familiar. You’ve been through this. Why is he going through this?)

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it (it really was warm). “Sans, snap out of it.” His skull swiveled in your direction, and you could feel his eyes (well, the lights in his eyes) searching your features. Perhaps he hadn’t expected for you to be able to figure out he was panicking? 

(You had plenty of experience in that department.)

“you… you’re a box of surprises, mina.” There was genuine wonder to his words and you couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “Good surprises, I hope.” Sans’ permanent grin widened a little and you had faith it was good sign.

“sorry, I can be hard of hearing. you know, no ears and all.” You snorted. “but yeah, the heart – that’s frisk’s SOUL. monster magic can affect the SOUL of other monsters and humans. so many, if not all times, we pull it out of our opponent before a fight so we can see it. Some monsters don’t need to, though. they can see it even inside your body.”

You moved your hand reflexively in front of your chest. You didn’t like the idea that someone could easily observe the most intimate part of your being. Saying it was a violation of one’s privacy was the understatement of the millennium – the very essence of your existence, the culmination of your experiences, laid out in the open for a stranger to see - it was beyond disturbing, and it made you wish you’d never have to fight.

(I’m… gross. I don’t want anyone to see it. I won’t let anyone see it. I can’t let anyone see it.)

“Do… do all SOULS look like that?” Please don’t notice the hesitation Sans. “you mean, like a heart?” Thank you. “yeah. the color’s different for everyone though.”

“WHAT!?” You winced and covered your ears. Goddammit Papyrus. “FL-FLIRTING!? SO YOU FINALLY REVEAL YOUR ULTIMATE FEELINGS! W-WELL! I’M A SKELETON WITH VERY HIGH STANDARTS!!!”

…. Goddammit, Frisk. Not this again.

Frisk must’ve somehow heard your internal dialogue because they chose that moment to whirl around and wave innocently to get your attention.

**“Hey, Mina! Can you teach me to make spaghetti?”** You goggled at them. Was Frisk seriously asking for your assistance in flirting with a skeleton by feeding him spaghetti?

Before you could scream at them that no, you were not going to endorse their flirting and that they needed to wait at least another nine years until they could so much as think about dating, Frisk must’ve told Papyrus that you would help, because the next thing you heard was “OH NO!!! YOU’RE MEETING ALL MY STANDARTS!!!”

(SOMETHING’S VERY WRONG WITH YOUR STANDARTS IF A NINE YEAR OLD CAN MEET THEM, PAPYRUS.)

Next to you, Sans cracked up. “is flirting with skeletons a human thing?” You buried your face in your free hand (which was absolutely frigid and that did not help your mood) and groaned. “We’ve had this talk before! I thought they’d finally dropped it!”

True enough, roughly into your fifth day of hanging out together, Frisk had flirted with you. As any decent human being would, you were thoroughly horrified, automatically entered Mom Friend Mode, and went on a spiel about the consequences of dating at a young age, how children and adults could not date, stranger danger and so on and so forth, lasting a whopping one hour and a half in total.

Unfortunately, delving into the gallows of your memory to recite every embarrassing and cringe worthy PSA and awkward conversation with your parents and teachers was a fool’s errand. Good going there, Mina.

Fully processing Sans’ words snapped you out of your funk. You narrowed your eyes at the smug-looking skeleton. “What do you mean, ‘a human thing’?”

Sans raised your joined hands and a eyebrow (no, brow bone? Wait, how was he even doing that? He doesn’t have muscles!) in unison as an answer.

1,

2,

3.

You squeaked and retracted your hand like you had had it submerged in a tank of piranhas. That jerk, you helped him out and he repaid you by making fun of you? That would not stand, oh no. You crossed your arms and blew a raspberry at Sans, who in turn blew you a kiss (more like he pressed his hand to his teeth, but hey, it’s the thought that counts). 

“That wasn’t flirting, I was just, uh, warming my hand!” Smooth, Mina, real fucking smooth.

“heh. i wouldn’t know. you see, the cold just goes right through me.” You facepalmed so hard you feared you might have given yourself a permanent imprint of your palm in your forehead. You liked puns, you really did. Just not when they were being used to make fun of you.

Your reaction only egged Sans on. “what’s the matter? not tickling your funny bone?”

You gave Sans your best scathing look. “Keep it up, _babe_ , and I’ll be feeding your funny bone to Lesser Dog as a present. I wonder how your puns will do without it.”

…?

Sans looked at you like you were the most beautiful creature that ever walked the earth.

Unfortunately, the world wasn’t very keen on letting you soak in that delightful stare.

A stronger wave of magic pulsated through you and knocked you flat on your butt. Panic and guilt seized you – Frisk had gotten hurt or (please please nononono) killed because you were too busy chatting idly in safety, this was your fault-

Frisk stood unharmed, but their body was tense. They looked… heavy. Physically heavy (in the back of your mind you registered you felt abnormally heavy as well).

“YOU’RE BLUE NOW!” Papyrus boasted. In closer inspection, the heart – Frisk’s SOUL – had literally turned blue. 

“THAT’S MY SPECIAL ATTACK!”

* * *

Blue magic, as Sans had explained to you, was essentially control over gravity. It weighed the SOUL down – and its effects reflected in the body.

Frisk’s movements were sluggish, lethargic. Dodging had become much more challenging and the patterns of Papyrus’ attacks had become more complex as well. A couple of bones had landed a hit on Frisk and you were a woman possessed. Too bad Sans had decided to hold your hand again to keep you from doing anything.

You were pissed and worried and on the verge of crying (again).

The only thing that calmed your erratic heart was the fact that Papyrus himself was becoming disheartened (a dog stealing his special attack probably didn’t help). You supposed Sans could be right. Papyrus looked as if he wanted nothing more than to end the fight right then and there.

After a bizarre final attack which included the meddling dog and an assortment of bones spelling things such as “cool dude”, Papyrus relented.

"WELL.” Papyrus wiped his brow. “IT'S CLEAR... YOU CAN'T! DEFEAT ME!!! YEAH!!! I CAN SEE YOU SHAKING IN YOUR BOOTS!!!” …sure, if you what you mean by ‘shaking’ is ‘elated to stop battling and instead make friends with’. “THEREFORE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ELECT TO GRANT YOU PITY!! I WILL SPARE YOU, HUMAN!!! NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO ACCEPT MY MERCY.”

Frisk jumped happily and you let out the mother of all sighs of relief. Their SOUL shimmered, then retreated back inside their body, while the pressure of Papyrus’ magic dissipated.

“toldja.” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry for being a worrywart. I guess I did overreact by trying to stop a kid from fighting a nearly two meters tall skeleton.”

“wow, that sentence was really laced with sarcasm, huh? were you that deter-mina-ed papyrus was a bad guy?”

“SANS! I AM NOT IN THE MOOD TO HEAR YOUR TERRIBLE JOKES!” Papyrus sounded so dejected you kind of pitied him. You shot Sans a look and he shrugged. “alright. sorry, bro.”

Papyrus carried onwards with his wail. “NYOO HOO HOO… I CAN’T EVEN STOP SOMEONE AS WEAK AS YOU.” Orange tears were starting to pool in the corners of his eyesockets. Aww Papyrus, no! “UNDYNE’S GOING TO BE DISAPPOINTED IN ME. I’LL NEVER JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD… AND… MY FRIEND QUANTITY WILL REMAIN STAGNANT!” Ouch, that hit a little too close to home for comfort.

Frisk signed something (they still had their back to you, so you couldn’t see exactly what they had said) and boy, did it do wonders for Papyrus’ mood.

His crestfallen expression was immediately lightened up by a blinding smile and his defeated, near doubled over posture straightened so quickly you thought for a moment his spine was going to crack.

“REALLY!? YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS, WITH ME??? WELL THEN... I GUESS... I GUESS I CAN MAKE AN ALLOWANCE FOR YOU!” Oh man. Trust Frisk to befriend someone who had been deadset on capturing them moments ago.

Then again, that little detail aside, Papyrus was pretty sweet.

You were brought back to reality by Frisk practically tackling you to the ground. 

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing after you nearly gave me a heart attack?” You mock-scolded. Effortlessly picking Frisk up, you spun them around in a circle. They were so light! 

Frisk squirmed in your grip and you let them down, not before giving them a well-deserved noogie. They began signing as soon as they escaped you.

**“Mina, you’ll be Papyrus’ friend too, right?”**

…

Friend?

_No one wants to be friends with you, piss off!_

“Frisk… I… I don’t want to bother Papyrus.” (In fact, you’d be doing him a favor by staying way.)

_Can’t you tell? Everyone is happy when you stay away._

(It was a fact, as true as how the Earth orbited the Sun and the Moon orbited the Earth and-

A painful memory. You didn’t want to think about it.)

Papyrus picked you up.

He crushed you against his ribs and nuzzled (?) your cheek. Your legs dangled off the ground.

“NONSENSE!” He adjusted his volume so he wouldn’t burst your eardrums. That was… strangely considerate. Warmth blossomed in your chest. “I SAW HOW MUCH YOU LOVE THE SMALLER HUMAN, TALLER HUMAN! IT REMINDED ME OF MY UNCONDITIONAL LOVE FOR MY BROTHER, EVEN IF HE MAKES AWFUL JOKES, DOESN’T CLEAN HIS ROOM AND IS GENERALLY A LAZYBONES!” 

You heard Sans grumble something in the background.

“I THINK YOU’RE VERY GREAT! NOT AS GREAT AS MYSELF, OF COURSE, BUT DEFINITELY GREAT ENOUGH TO BE WORTHY OF MY FRIENDSHIP! PLEASE ACCEPT IT, TALLER HUMAN!”

Papyrus wanted to be your friend.

_He’s lying._

Papyrus explicitly said he wanted to be your friend.

_So what? Everyone can say that. He obviously doesn’t mean it._

(Shut up. For once, let me believe.)

“OH NO!” You cringed. Yep, being considerate time was over, Papyrus was back to louder than life volume. “SANS! THE TALLER HUMAN IS CRYING! I’VE OVERWHELMED HER WITH MY GREATNESS!”

Oh. So that’s why your cheeks felt damp.

Papyrus put you down and held you by your shoulders, which was a good thing because your legs were in no condition to keep you standing. Frisk hugged you and Sans pat your head affectionately.

“you okay, mina?”

“TALLER HUMAN! PLEASE FEEL BETTER!” 

**“Don’t cry, Mina. I don’t want you to be sad.”**

(I’m not sad, Frisk. I’m fucking overjoyed.)

For now, you just cried, surrounded by your friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a battle was won and friends were made - i'd say it was a good day for frisk, mina and the skeleton bros! see you next time!


	7. Dating Start!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter incoming~ can you guess by the chapter title what's going to happen? read on to be sure! come talk to me on tumblr at pink---stardust.tumblr.com! also, thank you so much for the comments! they really make my day :)

_The butterfly effect._

_A butterfly flaps its wings, disturbing the formation of a hurricane. Small causes may have grand-scale unexpected effects. Chaos theory._

_(Why does this come to mind?)_

_Schrödinger's cat._

_A cat is trapped in a box. A mechanism may or may not unleash poison inside the box. The chance is random. It’s impossible to know from the outside if the cat is dead or alive. Many-worlds interpretation._

_The cat is both dead and alive until you open the box._

_Open the box?_

_(The cat might live.)_

_(The cat might die.)_

_Take a chance. / **Don’t take a chance**._

_(You are a coward.)_

_You can’t save a single thing._

_You can’t save yourself._

_You have (no) **DETERMINATION**._

_(What is that?)_

_Better yet, are you the butterfly or are you the cat?_

* * *

Boney hands shook you.

“mina. wake up!”

Your eyes snapped open.

You were laying on the couch at the skeleton brothers’ house, a warm comforter nearly twice your size covering you, tucked neatly under the cushions. You felt like a burrito. Huh. This was familiar.

Sans was standing next to you, eyeing you apprehensively. His hands were still frozen mid-air.

“’Sup, bone man?” you rubbed what little sleep remained off your eyes. Your voice was pretty groggy, which was quite a feat when you had slept two hours, tops.

Sans’s shoulders relaxed as the tension in his muscles – erm, bones – dissipated and dropped his hands. “hey. are you alright? you were squirming quite a bit in your sleep.”

You pursed your lips trying to recall your dream. Only fragments of it remained, as if it were a film reel that had been burnt. All you had left was a small number of out-of-context frames.

(Time. Consequences. Self-deprecation. Determination.)

(Determination?)

“Uuh, I can’t remember much of it.” You cocked your head in thought. “But it wasn’t really a nightmare? More like, an uneasy dream? Kind of? I dunno. I wasn’t really afraid, or sad. In fact, I don’t remember _feeling_ anything. Other than maybe resignation?” You laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“actually, you’re making more sense than you think.” was Sans’s casual response. He looked sincere. His mouth seemed… smaller, somehow. Perhaps because he didn’t have that permanent grin. He looked somber.

You had the distinct feeling your words had struck a chord with him.

You still didn’t ask.

“OH NO!! YOUR DATING POWER!!!” Papyrus’s booming voice reverberated off the walls.

“Oh God. They’re still going at it?” You shrunk in your (well, Papyrus’s) comforter in second-handed embarrassment.

“actually, paps gave the kid a tour of the house after he tucked you in. took a while since frisk decided to race through the whole house. their date officially began twenty minutes ago.” Sans smirked amusedly as you tried to meld yourself with the sofa.

After your, ahem, _little outburst_ , Papyrus had insisted on inviting you and Frisk to his and Sans’s house. After all, you were friends now, and he was ecstatic at the prospect of being a good host for you. Also, for someone who didn’t have eyeballs, Papyrus was exceptionally good at making puppy-dog eyes.

In other words, all polite and rehearsed objections died in your throat before you could even think about verbalizing them. Damn that endearing skeleton.

Frisk thought it was a terrific idea. They still had their date to plan, of course! Which made Papyrus blush (his cheekbones looked like freaking tangerines), Sans guffaw and you pull your hood over your head in chagrin. You made a feeble attempt at scolding them, and was quickly disarmed when Frisk legendarily declared:

**“Don’t worry; you’re still the number one girl in my heart!”**

(WHO WAS RASING THIS CHILD?)

And Sans, not missing a beat, followed with:

“i guess that makes papyrus the number one skeleton in your heart, eh kiddo?”

(SANS, CAN YOU NOT?)

Anyway, that’s how you ended up at the skeleton brother’s house. Now, for how you ended up sleeping in their couch there was an equally embarrassing story.

It all started when you had the audacity to yawn.

Frisk remarked you appeared somewhat worn-out, and Papyrus practically jumped out of his boots and began fussing over you. Were you tired? Did you need to nap? Power naps are important! The Great Papyrus would not allow a friend to be ill-rested! Would you like a bedtime story as well?

Unable to counteract such a furious (and adorable) preoccupation over you well-being, especially since Frisk decided to join him on coaxing you to rest, you acquiesced.

Long story short, Papyrus picked you up, grabbed one of his warmest comforters, tucked you in and pat your head like a mother would to her child (the bedtime story was aborted as Papyrus stormed off screeching when Sans faux-innocently asked if, since you were on the couch, it would actually be a “couchtime story”). You would have never guessed in your life you would ever be babied by a skeleton.

It left you feeling warm and fuzzy and sleep soon came.

“don’t worry.” Sans interrupted your reminiscing “paps is having fun and besides, it was a given the kid would be a little _frisky_.” Sans winked and you cracked up despite yourself. 

“I didn’t raise them that way, I swear.” You muttered from underneath the comforter. It was so fluffy and warm! Couldn’t you just stay wrapped up in it forever?

“i dunno about that.” Sans gave you a pointed look, clearly referring to your hand-holding endeavors. Your stomach flip-flopped and you groaned in despair as you slid further under the comforter. Damn that skeleton and his teasing.

(The sound of coins tinkling caught your attention. You slid your hand in the gap between the cushions and found loose change. Jackpot! You were keeping it as revenge. Take that, Sans!)

(… you might return it to Papyrus, though.)

“I didn’t hear _you_ complaining.” Kudos to you for managing a level tone. When you dared to take a peek at Sans from under your fluffy fortress, his cheekbones were dusted in a light blue.

Wait.

Holy shit.

Sans was blushing?

(…nice.)

“heh. anyway” the lights in Sans’s eyes darted from you to the ground a few times before settling on the wall behind you. Aww, he _was_ flustered! “there’s another reason I woke you up.”

“Hmm. And here I thought you did it just to tick me off.” Now that you were sure Sans could get embarrassed as well, you were emboldened.

“haha. so, i was thinking, do you wanna go grab some burgers? i know a place – well, it’s actually the only place in town, but they have great food.” Oh. OH.

“Sure, I’d love too!” you flushed as you blurted out your answer out maybe a little too quickly.

Sans smiled.

For someone without lips, he had a handsome smile.

* * *

The atmosphere in Grillby’s was cozy.

The moment Sans opened the door (and held it out for you, which earned him brownie points), you could see the place was littered with familiar faces. Many monsters you had spotted in your walk through Snowdin were present. Lesser and Greater Dog barked cheerfully in a greeting of sorts and ran up to you to be pet. You laughed and scratched behind their ears.

“hey, don’t go stealing my date.” Sans quipped good-naturedly. (Oooh boy. You could almost hear the blood rushing to your face and ears. Not fair Sans!)

…

Did this really count as a date?

A voice in the back of your mind hoped it did.

Lesser and Greater Dog whined, but otherwise respected Sans’s request and rejoined a couple of other dog-like monsters they had been seated with – an actual couple wearing matching black hoods and holding axes (you stepped closer to Sans, just in case) which were whispering sweet things to one another, and a muscle shirt and leopard print-clad Rottweiler (the fashionista in you wept).

Exchanging friendly greetings with a few more monsters (Sans had mentioned he was a regular), all of whom enthusiastically recognized you as Sans’s date (which didn’t just give you butterflies in your stomach, oh no, the butterflies were having a freaking rave party in there), Sans lead you to the bar. Behind the counter stood an elegant monster; he wore a prim uniform compromised of a white dress shirt, a bowtie, matching black vest and slacks and an apron.

Also, he was on fire. Well, was _made_ of fire.

“hey grillbz.” Grillby nodded in acknowledgement and set down the glasses he’d been cleaning, presumably to take your order. You were too busy still gawking at the fire monster. The flames crinkled pleasantly, like a bonfire in a quiet summer night spent dancing, laughing and telling stories. You were bathed in its glow and were instantly invaded by nostalgia.

Things were simpler during those summer nights.

“gee kid, i know grillby’s hot, but-“

Oh shit oh shit oh shit you were staring oh shit. Damage control! Damage control!

“I’m so sorry!” you creaked. “You’re just so pretty!”

…

Fuck.

Right. Good job, Mina. Open mouth, insert foot.

Grillby nodded again, slowly, thin-rimmed glasses perched atop an invisible nose bobbing slightly. “It’s alright.” he spoke in a low, croaky voice.

You squeaked another apology and grabbed a menu, not so much so you could choose what to eat as to hide your reddened face. At this rate, you were going to catch fire too.

“so, whaddya want, mina? bugers? fries?” You mentally thanked Sans for the suggestions. In all likelihood, considering how good he was at reading your emotions, he could tell you weren’t actually reading the menu. Not that you were particularly subtle. “Uh, some fries would be great, thanks.”

As soon as Grillby disappeared inside what you assumed was the kitchen, you slumped forward and allowed your forehead to hit the wooden counter with a loud thud. You probably earned yourself a bump for this.

“hey, how come you never told me I’m pretty?” Sans drawled. Oh god Sans. Please stop taking pleasure in my misery.

“Go awaaaaaaaay.” You whined and weakly shoved against him. Sans burst into laughter. “fine, but how’re you gonna pay?” You regretted having left the loose change next to the pet rock.

“I’ll run away.”

“do you know how to get back home?” For a moment, your heart skipped a beat as you imagined yourself as part of Sans’s concept of “home”. Right, as if. You had just met the guy.

(And was apparently beginning to crush on him.)

“Uuuuuuugh.” You replied eloquently.

Sans laid his head on the counter so he could take a peek at your face. “so you’re stuck with meee~” he sing-songed. You gave him your fiercest pout. “Fine bone man, you win.”

Grillby approached you again, carrying a burger and fries in separate plates. (Oh man, they smelled heavenly. Your mouth was watering already.) He set them down in front of you, then reached under the counter to grab a ketchup bottle, much to Sans’s obvious delight. So he liked ketchup, huh.

You gave Grillby your thanks, averting eye contact (or eye-to-glasses contact?), and could swear you heard him chuckle as he left to attend to another patron.

“So you ordered a burger?”

“what did you think I was going to get?”

You grinned “Spare ribs.”

Sans did a show of choking on his burger. “that, was a good one.” He admitted. Ah, hell yes. You popped a fry in your mouth as reward. Holy crap, they were really good.

“anyhow, i wanted to talk to you. ketchup?” he extended the bottle in your direction and you shook your head. Sans shrugged “suit yourself”.

Then he downed the. Whole. Freaking. Bottle.

You were both thoroughly impressed and thoroughly grossed out.

“You, uh, wanted to ketchup then?” You tried not to gag. So the guy _really_ liked ketchup.

Sans snorted. “you’re stealing my puns.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but you don’t have the copyright to bone and ketchup puns.”

“what’s ‘copyright’?”

“Oh. Anyway, doesn’t matter. Continue, please.”

“ok. i’m going to be blunt.” You dropped the fry you were holding back into your plate and spun a little on the barstool so you could better face him. Sans had stopped eating as well, his arms were crossed and propped on the counter. His expression was unreadable.

“do you have any idea why frisk came to mt. ebott?”

It’d be a lie to say you hadn’t been expecting it.

It made sense he’d ask. For a nine year old to flee from home and into somewhere rumors spoke certain death awaited them… it was a terrifying thought. It was a worrying thought.

“…This is just conjecture, ‘kay?” Sans turned to you, face hard and white pupils trained on you. You shrunk a little in your seat. “So, Frisk and I have been friends for nearly a year. And over that year, I’ve seen Frisk with injuries a child can’t get from just playing around. Really ugly stuff.” You shuddered at the memory of a bruised up Frisk. Trying to explain away their sorry state. I’m okay, Mina. This is nothing, Mina. Don’t worry, Mina.

Of course you’d fucking worry.

“I… think their parents are beating them. Were beating them.” You corrected yourself. “So they ran.”

“wasn’t there anyone you could go to?”

Tears threatened to spill. Sans blamed you. Why wouldn’t he? You suspected a child was being battered and you did nothing, just sat back like the coward you were, thinking that keeping them company and bandaging them up would make it all go away, you called yourself their friend but was too spineless to fight for them, you were useless, a useless selfish bitch-

“hey. hey.” Sans dabbed at the corner of your eyes with a napkin. “i’m not blaming you. it’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is.” You hiccupped. “I failed them.”

“no, their parents failed them. don’t you see how happy they were to see you? the kid was over the moon. c’mon, deep breaths.” You mimicked Sans’s slow (lungless) breathing. Soon you were relatively back to normal.

“Sorry I’m such a crybaby.”

“s’okay. better to be a crybaby than a heartless person, right?” There was something hidden in his tone.

For the third time, you didn’t ask.

“I tried to go to the police, you know. But” you sucked in a breath “they didn’t take me seriously. Frisk refused to tell me what was wrong and when I tried to take pictures of their injuries they caught on and started avoiding me until they healed. I had no evidence.” You omitted the part that you were also horrified that in the off chance police did take you seriously they might take Frisk away and you’d never see them again.

You’d be destroyed without Frisk.

“it makes sense.” Sans concluded.

Your skin crawled in anticipation. Sans was going to ask about you now, it was the logical follow-up.

(He’s finally going to know the real you and he’ll hate you hate you hate you-

Be quiet, shut up, _please_.)

“your fries are gonna go cold.”

What.

“You- you’re not… going to..?” was all you could stutter out.

“not unless you wanna talk about it.” Sans stated as matter-of-factly. “frisk is a child, so we gotta look out for them. but you’re an adult – if you wanna talk, i’ll lend an ear. if you don’t, i respect that. all I want to ask you is one thing.”

“do you want to return to the surface? I’m not saying ever, just right now, in the near future.”

“No.” You had made a reckless decision. A stupid decision, even. But you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. You had needed to get away as surely as you needed oxygen to breathe.

“do you think frisk wants to return to the surface any time soon?” Sans sounded like he already knew the answer to that.

“No.”

“do you want to stay with papyrus and i?”

“Ye- wait, what?”

Sans regarded you calmly. You searched his face once, twice, thrice. The earnest look in his eyesockets, lights bright and soothing. The small toothy smile. There was no hint whatsoever of dishonesty in his expression.

“I- I can’t- I don’t want to impose” you burst into nervous laughter “Hell, I met you just today, I can’t- I just-“

“that’s the overanalyzing mina talking.” Your jaw snapped shut. Your teeth hurt. “i want the candid mina. the one that laughs at my puns and beats me to them sometimes. the one that wanted to fight my brother so frisk wouldn’t have too. the one that cried when she made friends with paps.”

You were warm.

Your chest was warm, your face was warm, your heart was warm.

You were overwhelmed with warmth. Happiness.

“I do.”

“well then, let’s finish our meal so we can go home.”

* * *

The brothers’ house – your house – was coming into view. You and Sans were walking leisurely, holding hands. Who had initiated contact? You didn’t know.

Everything was peaceful. You were content.

“Hey, Sans?” you tugged his arm.

“hmm?”

“You’re really pretty.”

“and you complain about frisk.” Sans murmured bashfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you enjoy your date with your favorite skeleton? i know i did! see you next time!


	8. A Foreboding Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello and welcome to chapter 8! almost nothing happens lol, but setup is necessary after all... as always, you can talk to me at pink---stardust.tumblr.com! and thank you so much for all the comments!

“Frisk. Shower. Now.”

**“Noooo!”**

“I’m not gonna repeat myself.” You pointed to the still steaming bathroom. “Shower.”

Frisk stomped their feet. **“But I don’t wanna!”**

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Dude, you’re covered in dirt and snow! Besides, I bet you haven’t taken a bath since you got here!”

Frisk’s mouth twitched. Bullseye.

“SMALLER HUMAN, IT IS VERY IMPORTANT TO HAVE PROPER HYEGENE HABITS!” God bless you, Paps.

You crossed your arms and tried your best not to look smug. Key word: tried. “Also, I am not sharing a bed with a dirty kid. So you can either take a shower, or I’m afraid you’ll have to find yourself a new bedmate.”

**“Hey Sans, can I-“**

“sorry kid. i wouldn’t want to anger mina when she’s being so sternum.” (Cue very displeased Papyrus.) With the killing blow delivered, Frisk looked so betrayed you almost pitied them.

Almost.

Frisk huffed and snatched the towel you’d been holding out for them in your other hand. They marched into the small bathroom like a criminal on death row would to their execution, slamming the door behind them. You sighed. “Stubborn kid.”

“welp, you’re pretty hardheaded yourself, mina.”

You poked Sans’s forehead. “No, you’re hardheaded. Bonehead.”

Sans chuckled as Papyrus threw his hands up in frustration. “YOU KNOW WHAT? I AM TAKING BACK MY OFFER OF A SLUMBER PARTY. YOU CAN SLEEP ON THE COUCH! OR WITH SANS, SINCE YOU’RE BOTH TERRIBLE!” You choked on air.

“Oo-oh c-c’mon, you’d re-aally hang us out to-to dry? Hahaha…” (Congrats on the fakest, most awkward laugh of the century) Your insides had tied themselves into a knot and burned fiercer than a nuclear explosion (Not that you’d ever been in one… bad Mina, that’s not the point!) Paps, do you realize how that sounds?! What that statement might entail!?

…. Was it even physically possible for skeletons to have sex? Wait, how did monsters even reproduce?

More importantly: were your thoughts really going down that road!?

“we’re sorry bro.” You couldn’t look at Sans now. Your face might explode.

“Yeah. Sorry, Papyrus.” You piped in in your most apologetic tone.

“HMPH.” Papyrus crossed his arms and stared down at you. Which was a given when both you and Sans were barely taller than his waist level. You were having a hard time keeping a straight face because: a) you were still screaming internally from embarrassment, and b) Papyrus was obviously faking his disapproval. Hell, you were pretty sure he actually enjoyed Sans’s puns and only complained because it was a routine of sorts between them. It was adorable, to be honest. Gosh, what a pair of dorks.

“I SUPPOSE I CAN FORGIVE YOU.” Papyrus relented. Yay!

“we should probably start setting the mattress while frisk showers, then?”

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL RETRIEVE IT!”

“Oh, you gotta let me help, Paps!” You pleaded “It’s the least I can do when I’m already going to be taking space in your room!” You had to do something useful.

Papyrus shook his head and placed his hands on his hips, a perfect replica of the posture you had held when lecturing Frisk. 

You had made a beeline for the bathroom after you and Sans had spoken to Papyrus about your living arrangements (which had resulted in you being swooped up in a rib-crushing hug, then carried through the house until you found Frisk, who was also swooped up, and spun around to the point your dinner nearly came out to say hi), giving the excuse of taking a shower so you could collect yourself. Dear lord, social interaction was exhausting.

The bath had been a marvelous idea. You spent at least ten minutes picking out flower petals and leaves from your hair, then another good twenty minutes washing off mud and dirt. Running through a forest at night and falling down a hole, Alice in Wonderland style, would do that to a person. (The fact that you had paraded around Snowdin in such a sorry state had made you want to curl up under the shower and stay there forever. Shit, you had gone on a date? not-date? with Sans smelling like Tarzan if he had lived in Mt. Ebott instead of Africa. Eeeeep).

“TSK, TSK, TSK.” Now Papyrus was lecturing you. Oh dear. “TALLER HUMAN, IT IS ONLY NATURAL THAT I SHOW YOU THE BEST HOSPITALITY POSSIBLE WHEN WE ARE GOING TO BE ROOMMATES!”

“But- I mean- you’re doing me a favor by letting me stay here, I shouldn’t give you more trouble than necessary.” 

Why had you agreed again? You were going to be nothing but a burden to the brothers. This was a bad idea. You should just pack up and leave. Frisk could stay, they loved Frisk, and you’d go like you should have. Did you learn nothing that day? Why were you putting yourself up for so much heartache again?

God, you were falling back again into a pit of anxiety. You clawed desperately at its walls. Clung to Sans’s words. He said it was okay. He said – he _asked_ you to stay. Believe that. Believe Sans.

Slowly, you pulled yourself out.

Papyrus looked absolutely scandalized. “TALLER HUMAN, YOU ARE NOT GIVING ME TROUBLE! I AM MORE THAN OVERJOYED THAT YOU AND THE SMALLER HUMAN ARE STAYING WITH US! OUR FRIENDSHIP WILL GROW TO UNPRECEDENT LEVELS!

You clung to Papyrus’s words as well. Kept yourself afloat. Thank you, Papyrus.

“Okay. Let’s do it then!”

* * *

Papyrus hadn’t been exaggerating about his action figures collection. It actually took up two dinner-sized tables! And his bed was a racecar! You were childishly gleeful.

The old mattress was set roughly in the middle of the room and covered with star-patterned sheets (everything in Papyrus’s room was so nice! He even had a computer! According to Paps, he was pretty famous in the Undernet. “I’m twelve followers away from double digits!” he’d said!… which meant he had minus two followers. You seriously questioned Papyrus’s math skills. And were filled with an urge to create hundreds of accounts so you could give Papyrus all the followers he deserved.)

Soon, Frisk emerged from the bathroom. You had let them borrow one of your hoodies since they didn’t have any sleepwear (you had actually managed to remember to pack pajamas while having the panic attack of your life. Yay?). Your ensuing squeal was so high-pitched you mildly expected Lesser Dog to come running through the doorway.

With preparations for bedtime set, you all settled downstairs to watch TV. Papyrus grabbed a VHS tape and began playing a movie protagonized by none other than his “favorite sexy rectangle” (Sans let out a long-suffering sigh) – Mettaton, a calculator on a unicycle. Okay, that was rude, but he did kind of look like a calculator. And was very overdramatic – his films were firmly set in so-bad-it’s-good territory, with explosions and fake oil tears and love confessions galore. He also seemed to be the only actor. Uh.

You ended up watching three films in a row, laughing hysterically all the way through. By the time the credits to the third one kicked in (and confirmed that yup, Mettaton was the only actor. Talk about an ego trip), your stomach hurt like you’d run a marathon.

“I BELIEVE IT’S TIME” Papyrus sniffed and wiped his nasal cavity on a tissue… was his snot orange too? Okay, gross, Mina. “TO GO TO BED.”

You blinked a few times, feeling the telltale heaviness in your eyelids. “I second that.”

Frisk yawned and rubbed their eyes. They were comfortably snuggled against you, arm linked with yours. Their hair was sprayed over the back of the couch, creating a lovely chestnut halo. They were just too cute!

“i think frisk agrees.” Sans chuckled from the other end of the couch (unfortunately, you had literally sat on opposite ends of the couch, Frisk and Papyrus sandwiched between you).

As you began standing up, Frisk tugged at your sleeve and smiled mischievously. **“Carry me upstairs~!”**

You guffawed. This kid. “You’re overestimating my strength.”

Papyrus leapt up and posed triumphantly. “WORRY NOT, TALLER HUMAN. I’LL CARRY THE SMALLER HUMAN!” Frisk giggled as Papyrus lifted them up and slung them over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then took off, leaving behind a trail of “nyeh heh heh”’s.

A bony finger prodded your side. Sans was still sitting on the couch, leaning in your direction. “so, will _you_ carry me upstairs, mina?”

Oh. Um. Stay cool?

“You- You’re such a lazybones.” Was your pitiful reply. Sans only grinned harder.

“hey, i worked myself to the bone today. even treated you to dinner and everything.” The influx of memories from your meal at Grillby’s did nothing to soothe the butterfly rave party that reignited in your stomach. Heh. Grillby. Ignite. Jesus, Sans was rubbing off on you and you’d know him for a day.

Prod, prod, prod. “underground to mina.” He sounded so damn smug. Alright, then. Revenge time!

“Okay. Let me repay you.” Before your vengeance-fueled boldness fled you, you wrapped your arms around Sans’s ribcage and hoisted him up. “Up you go!”

An undignified squeak escaped Sans. Hehe. How’d you like being the embarrassed one, Mr. Skeleton? On an unrelated note: holy crap, he was light!

“i, uh, thought you weren’t strong enough?” Sans muttered, flushed blue and averting eye contact. Sheepish Sans was so cute!

“When skeletons pick on me, I get a power boost.”

“so you pick them up?”

“Exactly.”

“… you weirdo.” Normally, being called any variation of “strange” would’ve stung greatly. Probably even make you cry (not that it took much to bring you to tears). But there was fondness in Sans’s voice.

It melted any discomfort that might’ve sprung up.

You slowly climbed up the stairs. You could feel Sans’s ribs against your chest, and a strange drumming-like sensation, almost like a heartbeat. It… resonated with you, somehow.

A slipper fell from Sans’s foot and rolled down to the bottom of the stairs. Oops.

“…Should I go get it?”

Sans shrugged. His face was so close, smooth bone brushing against your cheek as he turned to look at the lost slipper. Ooh boy. “nah. i’ll get it in the morning.”

“Lazybones.”

“i know. you’ve said it before.”

Once you reached the top, you set Sans down. Sure, he was light, but climbing up the stairs carrying that much weight wore you out. 

An awkward silence settled between you.

Um.

“so.”

Gulp.

“So.”

“i guess this is goodnight.”

“Hmm.”

….

“SANS! TALLER HUMAN! PLEASE HURRY! WE WANT TO HEAR A BEDTIME STORY!”

GOD BLESS YOU, PAPS.

You broke out into nervous laughter and Sans soon followed.

“coming, bro.”

* * *

“i think they’re asleep, paps.”

“OH! IT REALLY SEEMS SO!”

True enough, both you and Frisk were out cold, a mess of tangled limbs in a tight embrace under the starry sheets, snoring happily. If Sans focused hard enough, he could see a little pool of drool on your pillow. Heh. Cute. A little gross, maybe, but cute.

“WOWIE! THE HUMANS MUST’VE REALLY BEEN TIRED!” Papyrus remarked, adjusting his sleeping cap.

“yep. by the way, i’ve been meaning to ask you something, paps.”

“OF COURSE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL LISTEN TO YOUR REQUEST! WHAT IS IT, BROTHER?”

Sans turned to him, the lights in his eyes just pinpricks and jaw set hard. Papyrus knew that look. He felt his bones run cold.

Papyrus sat up straighter, concerned.

“don’t tell undyne anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is sans thinking? will papyrus heed his request? find out in the next chapter~!


	9. The Way To Waterfall Is Paved With Good Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this week drained me of all my energy, hence the latter than usual chapter. as always, you can talk to me at pink---stardust.tumblr.com and thank you so much for all the comments!

Sans thought he’d seen it all. But he guessed the universe wasn’t done fucking with him, because now here he was, with another fallen child. A human that fell after Frisk.

And it wasn’t any human either. Frisk cherished you. Heck, if only you knew what you did to Frisk’s SOUL. It burned so bright and yet so gentle, so vibrant and yet so calm. It was the most brilliant shade of red.

Even in all of the timelines he had documented on his Journal that Frisk befriended and freed all of monsterkind, never had he seen them described as so peaceful. So blissful.

(He couldn’t compare it with the perverse crimson, the bloodlust-driven maddening drumming when Frisk – no, that _thing_ – danced in the Dust of his friends. The Dust of his dear brother, kind brother, naïve brother who always tried to save them and fell so many times, too many times and all he had to come back to was an empty house in an empty town overflowing with memories of him, all taken away on a child’s whim, a whim to commit genocide-

But they never succeeded because if there was something Sans never fucked up, it was his role as a judge.)

Sans had theorized the reason Frisk kept resetting time was because here was no one for them to return to in the surface. Whatever had happened Aboveground, whatever had set Frisk on the path that landed them in the Ruins, deep below the earth, was so despair-inducing they’d rather repeat the same days over and over again. His talk with you about Frisk’s past only seemed to support this theory.

But technically they had you, didn’t they? Could it be that your presence wasn’t enough to ground them? Or…

Well. Sans may have known you for only a day, but he’d come to like you enough that such a possibility positively disgusted him.

(Your behavior and SOUL did nothing to soothe him.)

All in all, you were a new variable on a much memorized system. And if there was even a microscopic chance you were the answer to ending all of this madness, of taking back his brother’s and his friend’s right to a future that would not fall apart any second, then he was ensuring your survival.

Besides, he couldn’t deny you were pretty fun to be around. You liked puns. You were nice. You were fun to tease (and, heh, flirt) with. You had been so mirthful at Papyrus’s offer of friendship and his offer of shelter that it brought you to tears.

It’d be nice to have a friend.

That was why Sans couldn’t take any chances.

* * *

“BROTHER.” Papyus tried to keep his voice even, but with his growing dread it was becoming a daunting task. “I KNOW UNDYNE CAN BE FORCEFUL. BUT, SHE CAN BE REASONED WITH! I’M SURE THAT IF I EXPLAIN HOW NICE THE HUMANS ARE-“

“she won’t believe you.” Sans’s words cut deep. Tension was seeping from every pore of his being. The atmosphere in the room was barely tolerable. “she’ll capture them and you’ll never see them again.”

Papyrus wrung his hands. He knew it could very well happen. Undyne, once set on doing something, was akin to a force of nature. Oppose her, and you’ll be trashed.

But… Undyne was his best friend. His mentor. She was helping him accomplish his dream…! He wanted nothing more than to share this newfound happiness with her! Besides, he _did_ convince her to train him! He made a force of nature listen to him!

Papyrus felt his resolve strengthen. The Great Papyrus was _not_ backing down!

But, of course, neither was Sans.

(Stubbornness ran in the family, after all, and they’d both gotten a taste of it years ago, even if only Sans remembered.)

This would require a different approach; one Papyrus most certainly did not enjoy employing.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“I… UNDERSTAND.”

Sans goggled at him. “huh?”

“FOR THE SMALLER AND TALLER HUMAN’S SAKES, I’LL REFRAIN FROM MENTIONING THEM TO UNDYNE.”

Sans’s eyesockets screamed suspicion.

It stood no chance against Papyrus’s earnest smile.

(Papyrus felt his guilt crawling on his back.)

Finally, Sans’s shoulders sagged and he smiled ruefully. He hated fighting with his brother; it was beyond draining. “ok. thanks, bro.”

A bittersweet victory for The Great Papyrus.

Sans hopped onto his feet and began making his way around the room, carefully sidestepping the mattress Frisk and yourself were occupying. You were curled up on your side while Frisk was sprawled all over, an arm and a leg thrown over your torso. A fond smile tugged at his mouth.

“THE TALLER HUMAN MAKES YOU HAPPY, DOESN’T SHE, SANS?” Blue engulfed Sans’s cheeks at his brother’s bluntness.

“I DO NOT APPRECIATE HER ENDORSEMENT OF YOUR DREADFUL JOKES.” Papyrus punctuated his statement with an annoyed huff. “I DO, HOWEVER, APPRECIATE THAT SHE MAKES YOU SMILE.”

Hope was a dangerous thing. It would build over, rising Sans up, than shatter like glass and drop him further into despair. He didn’t let himself hope.

And yet, you made him hope.

“i guess she does, paps. goodnight.”

* * *

 _THUD_.

“YEOWCH! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Frisk, who had chosen to wake you up by jumping on top of you, grinned from their seat on your stomach. **“Potty mouth!”** they signed. You raised your head to shoot them a glare and scoffed indignantly.

“Well, I’m _sorry_ for cursing when you tried to crush my spine.” You deadpanned.

 **“Don’t worry, I forgive you, Mina.”** Frisk reached over to pat your messy bed hair for emphasis. Pat, pat, pat. Ugh, it was too early in the morning to actually get mad at anything and the patting was nice, so you let it slide.

“SMALLER HUMAN! IS THE TALLER HUMAN UP?” Ah, Papyrus. As loud and enthusiastic as always.

“You betcha.” You called out to the younger skeleton. Frisk snickered mischievously.

“AH, GOOD MORNING TALLER HUMAN! PLEASE HURRY! I’M ABOUT TO MAKE BREAKFAST SPAGHETTI FOR EVERYONE!”

“Sounds nice Pa-“

Sans’s horror stories of Papyrus’s, ahem, _unusual_ cooking methods flooded your brain in vivid flashbacks.

No, dying from food poisoning did not sound nice, Paps.

You rolled over, startling Frisk as they lost their balance and fell onto your makeshift bed. Slippers be damned, you raced downstairs in a frenzy and burst into the kitchen praying to any and all gods willing to listen that Papyrus hadn’t started cooking yet. They seemed to favor you this morning, as Papyrus (who was wearing a novelty “kiss the cook” apron) was still collecting the ingredients. And other inedible substances you did not want to think about that he apparently intended to throw in. Who in the world was teaching him to cook!?

Papyrus looked at you, mystified. You supposed a pajama-clad, disheveled and barefoot human was a sight to behold. Your skill with first impressions was indeed magnificent.

“Hey, um, I was thinking!” You sputtered out as you walked over to Papyrus and took the packet of noodles and tube of glue (PAPS WHYYYYY) he was holding. “Why don’t you let me make breakfast?” Papyrus opened his mouth to protest and you quickly cut him off. “I could, uh, erm, make you surface-style spaghetti! In the name of our friendship! How does that sound?”

“WOWIE!” Papyrus was practically glowing. “UNDYNE TOO TAUGHT ME HOW TO COOK TO DEEPEN OUR FRIENDSHIP!” Now you _really_ dreaded meeting Undyne “OH, I KNEW I WAS RIGHT IN BEFRIENDING YOU! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS INDEED ALWAYS RIGHT!” Oh, Papyrus. You’re too cute.

“THOUGH I AM NOT SURE IT CAN MATCH MY GREAT COOKING” Don’t laugh, Mina, don’t laugh! “BUT THAT IS NO MATTER; BECAUSE IF IT IS THE CASE, THEN I SHALL HELP YOU!”

You sighed in relief knowing you’d live another day. “Thank you, Papyrus.”

* * *

“Alright, Frisk. This is really important, so pay attention.” You were on your knees, gripping the child’s shoulders with a stern expression. They nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation.

“Don’t let Papyrus put anything weird in any of the pots while I wake Sans up, okay? In fact, don’t let him put anything there. Or turn up the heat!” Frisk nodded again. “Okay. Our survival depends on you.” Frisk’s eyes flashed with determination.

It was with a heavy heart that you stood up and walked back upstairs. Wiggling your cold toes, you made a quick stop by your room (Jesus, you were already calling it your room) and grabbed your slippers (actually Sans’s. He had, like, ten identical pairs. What a weirdo), then went over to Sans’s room.

You knocked on the door. A minute passed and still no answer. Maybe he was a heavy sleeper? It’d fit his personality. You knocked again and still received no answer.

“Sans? Are you awake? I made breakfast.” Silence.

An idea popped in your mind.

“Knock knock.”

You heard sheets shuffling. “who’s there?” So he _was_ awake. Lazybones.

“Femur.”

“femur who?”

“A femur minutes and there’ll be no spaghetti left for us to eat.”

The door opened just a crack, revealing a (what a shocker) grinning Sans. “a knock knock joke _and_ a bone pun? i’m impressed.”

“Impressed enough to join us for breakfast?”

“is breakfast edible?”

You narrowed your eyes dangerously and crossed your arms. The nerve! “I’ll have you know that while I don’t have a very large repertoire, I’m a very good cook.”

Sans chuckled. “alright, alright.” You stepped back, allowing Sans to come out of his bedroom. He shut the door and it locked with an audible click. Now that you thought about it, Sans’s bedroom was the only room in the house that even had a lock.

“sorry, no peeking inside.” He (definitely not sorry) replied to your mental inquiry.

“Oooh, are you hiding secrets in there, Sansy?” You taunted.

“nah, just making sure that no pervert will go through my underwear.”

“….Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about me?”

“i dunno. you _did_ tell me i was pretty, though. the way you said it chilled me to the bone.” Oh. He was never going to let you live that down, was he?

“Saying ‘you’re pretty’ and ‘I wanna raid your undies drawer’ are two very different things!”

Sans raised an bonebrow, shit-eating grin turned up to eleven. You almost wanted to punch him. “are you saying you wanna raid my undies drawer? cheeky.”

“Bite me.” You spat out.

“and kinky too.”

“BYE, SANS.”

And with those parting words, you cowardly retreated to the kitchen.

* * *

Breakfast was a resounding success. Papyrus became so enamored with your spaghetti that he begged you to teach him more, to which you bashfully agreed. It was invigorating to be complimented by someone as sweet as Papyrus.

The downside was that you couldn’t look Sans in the eye(socket), and Frisk had noticed and consequently plagued you throughout the meal with questioning stares.

Papyrus insisted on doing the dishwashing and wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you took the chance to change out of your pajamas, Frisk joining you. They slipped on the same clothes as the day before (not that they had much choice, anyway) while you took out a new set, then proceeded to wage war with your hair to make it at least mildly presentable.

By the time you finished, Papyrus was done with the dishes and getting ready to leave along with Sans.

“HUMANS!” Papyrus called as soon as he spotted you. “I AM TERRIBLY SORRY, BUT MY BROTHER AND I HAVE SENTRY DUTY. I KNOW YOU’LL MISS US DEARLY – ESPECIALLY THE GREAT PAPYRUS – BUT WE’LL RETURN FOR LUNCH!”

“That’s alright. Have fun at work!” You replied. Gee, you felt like a housewife. Frisk nodded sagely in agreement, beaming at the skeleton brothers.

“hey, mina. can I talk to you for a sec?” The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and your face was enveloped in familiar warmth. Jesus Christ, now the guy only had to talk and he had you blushing like a high school girl.

“Okay.” Sans lead you inside the kitchen, face unreadable. You were actually kind of jealous of how easily he masked his emotions; you had always worn your heart on your sleeve.

“so.”

“So.”

“i could be just repeating myself, but I don’t think you heard me at breakfast.” Considering that you had spent the whole time blocking out Sans’s presence in fear you were going to melt into a gooey puddle of shame, that was probably the case.

He scuffed the flood with his slipper. “you’re, um, a good cook.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“…”

“…”

“i’m sorry.” What?

“I beg your pardon?”

“i’m sorry for overstepping your boundaries. you know, when you went to wake me up. you’ve been avoiding me since.”

…

OH.

“You- ah- you didn’t overstep anything. I’m not mad, I just- got embarrassed? Bit off more than I could chew? I. Um. I like our banters.” Why were you so horrible with words!?

“you do?” Sans’s sockets widened in surprise.

“I do.” You admitted sheepishly.

“wow. i’m glad.” Sans scratched the back of his head. “just- next time, if you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed or whatever, tell me and I’ll stop.”

“Sure thing, bone man.”

Sans let out a small laugh of relief at the nickname. “ok. welp, I have to get going before paps kicks my ass for slacking off.”

“You don’t have an ass.”

And with those parting words, Sans left.

* * *

It had been an hour and a half since the brothers’ departure. You were sitting on the couch with Frisk, locked in an intense a battle of wits as you played checkers on your smartphone when your monster cellphone rang. Papyrus was calling you.

“Hello?”

“MINA!” You had never thought that hearing Papyrus call you by your name would fill you with so much terror. Your back went rigid. “ARE YOU AND FRISK ALRIGHT?”

“We are. What’s the matter?” Frisk tugged your shirt. They must’ve noticed the panic in your voice.

“YOU HAVE TO LEAVE THE HOUSE.”

“ _What?_ ” Frisk started shaking.

“PLEASE!”

“I-“ you breathed in “Ok.”

Seizing Frisk’s hand with your free one, you yanked open the front door and ran outside. You shivered as the cold crept up your feet, reminding you were still wearing slippers.

Your heart was racing. Frisk’s hand wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I’M SO SORRY. I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN.”

“I believe you Paps.” You bit back a sob. You failed miserably. “Where do we go?”

Papyrus was sobbing too. “WE NEED TO FIND SANS. CAN YOU CALL HIM?”

“Shit, we- we forgot Frisk’s phone! _Shit, shit, shit_!” You whimpered. “What’s going on Papyrus?”

Papyrus never got to answer.

Something hot and fast struck your phone and pinned it to ground in front of you.

A white spear shimmered and dematerialized. It could have decapitated you. You felt faint.

“Seven.”

You numbly turned towards the source of the voice.

An armored, fish-like monster glared viciously at you. Blue scales, fins in place of ears, a fanged predatory grin, a lone sharp yellow eye, an eyepatch. Red hair in a ponytail whipped behind her. The wind was howling.

“Seven human SOULS and King Asgore will become a god. Six. That’s how many we’ve collected thus far. Understand?”

Your stomach churned. You wanted to vomit. Pure, unadulterated fear coursed through your veins.

The woman extended her hand. Strips of bright white flowed and swirled around her fist and joined into the shape of a spear. She pointed it at you.

You blanched. You were crying. Frisk was crying.

“I don’t care which one of you it is. Through your seventh and final SOUL, this world will be transformed. You might’ve tricked Papyrus, but you won’t trick me!” She snarled.

“Frisk. Go.”

You flinched involuntarily, surprised at the sound of your own voice. When had you regained enough strength to speak?

Perhaps it had been in the moment you realized Frisk could be spared.

They had a vice-like grip on your hand. They stared at you, horrified.

“Frisk, go. Find Sans.”

Frisk violently shook their head, thick tears running down their cheeks. Your eyes stung from your own tears.

 _"Go, dammit!”_ you shrieked and yanked your hand with all your strength. Frisk lost hold of it and staggered backwards, stunned.

You averted their gaze, looking down. You needed to be firm. To be strong. For Frisk.

You couldn't do that looking them in the eyes.

“I’m not letting you die. _Go_.”

Silence. Then, hurried footsteps through snow.

Frisk was gone. You were alone.

You were always alone.

“Oh, drop that wimpy goody-two-shoes-shtick!” The woman scowled. Even so, her voice was unsteady. “Ooh! I’m making such a difference by protecting the other human! Well, TOO BAD! ‘Cause King Asgore’s gonna wipe out your kind for what you did to monsters!”

Magic hit you in strong waves. A rising tide.

“Your continued existence is a crime! Your life is all that stands between us and our freedom!”

Pulling, pulling. Your chest was uncomfortably warm.

“Everyone’s been waiting their whole lives for this moment! Let’s end this here and now, human!”

You couldn’t breathe. Felt like your thorax was gonna split. 

“I’ll show you how determined monsters can be!”

So much pressure, ready to burst. You wanted it to be over, but you’d be vulnerable if it did.

“I, Undyne-

-WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN!”

You let it burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh snap! it's mina vs undyne! what is mina's soul like? who will win? find out in the next chapter!!


	10. Spears of Justice, and Gray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mina's thoughts get pretty dark this chapter, featuring among other things suicidal ideation. if you suffer from this, please be careful as this chapter might trigger you.  
> once again, thank you so much for all of the comments and you can talk to me at pink---stardust.tumblr.com.

Gray.

Gray gray gray gray gray gray gray gray-

Cracks like rivers and valleys. Broken and flaking in so many places. Like worn and dry and old and _filthy_ concrete.

How hasn’t it fallen apart yet? What holds it together?

It was wrong. It shouldn’t exist.

Disgusting. You felt an urge to destroy it, to sink your fingers into the cracks and _pull_ , to crush it under your feet until it was nothing but dust. The repulsion you bore for it was maddening, it was both a drumming and a screech in your brain, like a thunderstorm and fingernails on a chalkboard- You wanted to tear out your hair, rip off your head so it would. Just. _Stop_.

You didn’t want to be affiliated with that _thing_.

(But it was you. Your SOUL. All of you.)

You knew. You knew all along that something was wrong with you – didn’t everyone keep telling you that? Parents, teachers, strangers, _friends_. They warned you over and over again and you ignored them. 

‘They’re just jealous.’ You rationalized.

‘I don’t need them.’ 

(And yet you yearned to befriend them.)

‘I’m fine being alone.’ 

(And yet you yearned for companionship.)

Fine?

You hadn’t been fine in years. How had you convinced yourself of such utter bullshit?

And they had known it, they had seen the real you- the clingy awkward womanchild, the anxious and depressed walking trainwreck. You were a thorn in their side, a rock in their shoe. So they cut their losses and left you. 

The most damming of proofs was now laid out in front of you.

An indignant voice in your head screamed they had ruined you. No. You were rotten to begin with.

Pathetic.

Disgusting.

Waste of space.

(Why were you alive, again?)

Undyne was as still as a statue. She stared horrified at your SOUL. Why wouldn’t she? 

Why wouldn’t anyone?

(The thought that Sans almost saw it only intensified your misery.)

She forced her jaw shut. Her jagged teeth stuck out.

(Maybe you should just let her kill you.)

She said something. You couldn’t make it out. All of your senses were zoned into that _gray, lifeless heart_ hovering in front of you. Taunting you.

Undyne’s spear pierced your SOUL. You didn’t even scream.

* * *

Frisk ran. Their mind was blank – they were functioning on a single command. _Find Sans_. Any and all other thoughts were shut down. They gripped and clawed at the borders of Frisk’s mind, trying to crawl in, whisper to them in cruel tones all of their worst fears, the worst possible outcomes, but they refused to allow it.

They had to be strong. They couldn’t cry. They had to save you.

They couldn’t bear loosing you. Not again.

Sans’s sentry station came into view.

It filled Frisk with **DETERMINATION**.

* * *

It was a bittersweet sensation.

Part of you was relieved. You were going to die. You didn’t have to think anymore. You didn’t have to suffer anymore.

Part of you, the one most primal, dominated by the survival instincts that had once helped mankind evade ferocious beasts-

(Really, the worst beasts were humans themselves.)

-it howled animalistically, jerking you and forcing you into motion.

Except you couldn’t.

Your feet were firmly rooted to the ground. Or, rather, your feet refused to obey your orders, as if the connection between them and your brain had been severed.

You felt a burst of magic in your SOUL. Looking ahead, you realized it was green now. It made it more bearable to look at. You remembered Papyrus turning Frisk’s SOUL blue.

(Except Frisk’s SOUL was beautiful and yours was putrid-)

“As long as you’re GREEN you CAN’T ESCAPE!” Undyne growled. She sounded... uneasy.

Why?

“Unless you learn to face danger head-on.... You won’t last a SECOND against ME!”

With a wave of Undyne’s spear, countless smaller spears manifested and flew towards you in flashes of white. You reflexively raised your arms in defense and was surprised to see a green shield materialize and block the onslaught. A rush of air behind you alerted you to another attack, and the shield accompanied you as you swirled to face it.

Face it. Face danger head-on... So that’s what she had meant.

To give you a shield to defend yourself with – that was awfully kind from someone trying to kill you.

(Just die already.)

“Not bad!” How ridiculous was it that hearing that actually cheered you up a little? Were you that desperate for affection? For validation? That you’d take it from your murderer?

How pitiful.

“Then how about THIS?!” A new wave of spears sprung into existence and rained on you from all directions. You swung the shield, heart drumming wildly in your chest. All of your muscles screamed and adrenaline burned in your veins, heightening all of your senses. Suddenly, you were aware of everything: the time lapse between attacks, the translucency of the shield, the horizontal scar peeking from under Undyne’s eyepatch, the snow gracefully falling and coating her armor in white- You could almost imagine a cape, a cape of a knight in shining armor, a hero fighting for her people’s salvation-

-and you were the abomination, the villain to be defeated. It all fit: your death would make a happy ending for everyone, wouldn’t it? Monsters would get out of the Underground and Frisk would live happily with Sans and Papyrus, _without you because they didn’t need you, nobody did_.

(You were so selfish. Just die.

JUST DIE JUST DIE JUST DIE JUST DIE JUST DIE JUST DIE YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT-)

_But all of humanity would perish too. Is that something you want?_

Searing hot pain. You collapsed.

You looked to the side. A spear had hit you just above your hip, dispersing into tiny lights as soon as it impacted. You were so invested in your self-loathing you didn’t even notice. Your SOUL flickered, sympathetic to your plight.

You didn’t want its sympathy.

“HAH! Not so tough now, are you?” Undyne boasted. You couldn’t muster the will to get up. She was going to kill you, and despite yourself it scared you shitless, Fear’s frigid fingers crawling up your spine and twisting your stomach and paralyzing your legs. And yet you couldn’t be bothered to get up.

God, one moment you wanted to die and the next one you didn’t. Couldn’t you even make up your mind on it? What _did_ you want?

You wanted to disappear.

What does it mean ‘to disappear’?

Something stirred inside you.

_Do not give up._

Your right leg twitched.

_You have so much more to offer. Do not give up._

You slowly propped yourself on your elbows.

_Get up. Take your time, but do get up._

You got on your knees, then carefully stood on wobbly legs.

_Yes! That’s it, my little butterfly. Now show me what you’re capable of._

You gazed straight into Undyne’s amber eye. She grinned.

“Heh... I take it back. You’re tougher than you look. En garde, human!”

* * *

“what’s going on, kiddo? where’s mina?”

Frisk dug their fingers into Sans’s jacket and pulled frantically. Tears were once again streaming down their cheeks. They wanted to sign, to tell Sans everything- but they were shaking too hard, teeth chattering in a frantic rythym. The rythym of fear.

“frisk. where is mina.”

Frisk forced their fingers to move.

**“Undyne-“**

Sans grabbed their hands and made a shortcut.

* * *

Undyne’s spear pierced your SOUL once again and you strained not to hurl as it returned to gray. Instantly, you felt your command over your feet return. You ducked to avoid a projectile.

_Show me what you’re capable of._

“For years, we’ve dreamed of a happy ending...”

You took off your drenched slippers...

“And now, sunlight is just within our re-“

...and threw them in Undyne’s face, interrupting her impassioned speech.

While she processed the fact that a human had just attacked her with wet footwear, you ran past her. 

When in doubt, confuse the hell out of your opponent.

“... GET. BACK HERE. YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

Undyne’s roar only spurred you to run faster-

And straight into Papyrus’s arms.

Warm bones cradled you to a sturdy ribcage like a small child. Tear trails were visible on his cheekbones. Oh, Papyrus. You really had meant well, hadn’t you?

“MINA. I AM SO SORRY. I AM HERE NOW.” You smiled wryly.

"I know, Paps. I'm still mad, but I know." You brushed his cheek and his smile lit up with the force of one thousand suns.

“Papyrus. Let her go.” Undyne had caught up, and she was seething.

“UNDYNE, PLEASE. SHE’S MY FRIEND!” 

_“SO WAS I!”_ You cringed at the betrayal in her words. You hid your face in Papyrus’s scarf. “Don’t you get it!? One SOUL, one more SOUL and Asgore can break the barrier! We can finally go free!”

Papyrus’s grip on you tightened. You sobbed into his scarf. Papyrus was jeopardizing his friendship with Undyne to save you. “IF FREEDOM CAN ONLY BE GAINED BY SACRIFICING HER, THEN I DON’T WANT IT.”

“Fine. Then, I’ll pry her OFF OF YOU!”

You felt crushed between their magic, suffocated. The pressure wasn't like anything you'd felt before. Then, a third one flared, somewhat familiar and yet entirely foreign, and, almost as soon as it began, it ended.

Dinosaur-sized bones had seemingly fallen from the sky and trapped Undyne in a makeshit cage. Sans, with Frisk in tow, stepped into view.

“sorry undyne. i can’t let you do that.” Sans’s right eyesocket was pitch black, while his left one was illuminated by an electric blue iris, much larger than normal, blue sparks and raw energy – raw magic – trailing from it like a comet’s tail.

Frisk quickly closed the distance between you. They were preparing to jump into your arms when they halted to a stop. All color drained from their face.

Oh no.

Oh please, God, no-

You tried to hide your SOUL to no avail, your hand phasing right through it. You felt naked. Exposed. Invaded.

Papyrus noticed it too. His grip faltered for a second. What you wouldn’t give for the earth to swallow you.

“shit, kid…”

No.

Not Sans. Not Sans too. Oh no.

Nonononononononononononononono-

“ _Don’t look at me!_ ”

Too late, they saw it. They saw how gross you really were and they were going to abandon you like _they_ did, you shouldn’t have let yourself hope, you shouldn’t have stayed with them, you shouldn’t have become friends, you shouldn’t have left the Ruins, you shouldn’t have left home but you couldn’t stay home because it was driving you crazy, you had no safe place, no haven, you were alone and scared and it was your fault-

“no, shh, kid. mina. please calm down.” You were wailing uncontrollably, chest heaving violently. Your SOUL disappeared inside your thorax again. Papyrus bent down and transferred you to Sans’s arms. You covered your face, biting your sleeves in a feeble attempt to quiet your crying. Instead, you choked on them and began coughing as well.

“paps, i’m going on ahead with mina, ok?”

“OF COURSE. UNDYNE AND I… NEED TO TALK.”

* * *

You weren’t sure how, but it only took a second for you to find yourself back in the skeleton brothers’ living room. Sans set you down on the couch and went into the kitchen. You curled into a ball, rocking back and forth, causing the couch’s springs to groan. You grabbed fistfuls of your hair and tugged.

“hey- hey, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.” Sans pried your hands and freed your hair. He began rubbing soothing circles on your back, like he had already done. God, how many times had Sans had to coax you out of a panic attack? You really were nothing but a burden.

“if this is about your SOUL, mina, it's fine-“

“It’s not fine!” you shrieked “It’s gross and disgusting just like me Sans, just like me!”

“you are not disgusting.” The firmness in Sans’s voice gave you pause. “you were hurt, mina, and it shows on your SOUL. you know what it shows, too?” you shook your head.

“it shows you’re strong. despite all you’ve gone through, despite all of your hardships, you’re still standing. you still get up every morning and you make it through the day. that’s not easy.”

How? How could Sans be saying so many kind things now? How was he not running away?

You tentatively leaned into Sans. “So, you’re not… grossed out? Repulsed?”

Sans wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “nope. if anything, it makes me admire you more.”

You laughed mirthlessly. “You see a girl bawling her eyes out and you think ‘damn, she’s strong?’”

Sans nudged your side. “not any girl. you.” He winked.

Sans really was too good to be true.

“…Do you mind if I cry a little more?”

“not at all.”

So you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof this was a heavy one, but at least sans's got your back. for more of the fallout from this incident, stay tuned for the next chapter!


	11. Of Midnight Pep Talks and Disappointments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! sorry for the delay, these last few days have been hectic for me. i was so happy to see all of the comments on my last chapter, it warms my heart that you guys got invested in my story :)

“here, eat this.”

“I-“ you hiccupped “don’t think I can stomach anything just yet, Sans.”

“i know, but this is special. it’ll make ya feel better. promise.”

You accepted the bunny-shaped cinnamon roll from Sans with shaky hands. You had been crying on and off for, what, twenty minutes? An hour? Your sense of time was far too screwed up by your anxiety to be anywhere near accurate. 

It was like trying to climb outside a flooded well. One moment you were almost out, exhausted and exhilarated and, most of all, just _relieved_ – and the next a treacherous thought caused you to slip and fall back underwater, the struggle renewed. You were so close and yet so far.

(At the very least, you had the will not to give in. You were fighting not to fall into despair. That had to count for something, right?)

You took a small bite of the cinnamon bunny. The sweetness of the sugary treat mixed with the saltiness of your tears, and something else that you weren’t quite sure you were actually _tasting_ , something that transcended your five senses and resonated deeply within you, with your-

(Ugly ugly ugly ugly- No, don’t think about it, still not ready to think about it. Sans said it was okay. Calm down. Believe Sans. Keep eating.)

True enough, you could feel your mood slowly but steadily improving. Your body too – the throbbing in your legs from running subsided, and the so did the pain in your side where Undyne’s spear had pierced you-

Undyne, towering over you, vicious, wanting to kill you, predatory, bloodthirsty, primal fear-

Safe. You were safe. Sans was with you. You were safe. You repeated the chant like a mantra.

But Undyne was outside. Your blood ran cold.

Would she hurt Papyrus? Would she hurt Frisk?

Would she come back to kill you?

The door was still open. Every fiber in your being screamed at you to close it, but also begged you to stay still, to hide somewhere, lest you face Undyne again - spy her golden eye trained on you from in between the bones that imprisoned her, like a predator staring down at its terrified prey to let it know its last moments were upon them, and no cage would stop them.

You whimpered. The door closed.

“hey.” Sans’s hold on you tightened. He grounded you. “you’re okay. just eat. breathe and eat. don’t think about anything else.”

You obliged.

* * *

Papyrus and Frisk eventually returned. Papyrus looked miserable. You looked miserable too: you made quite a pair like this.

The moment they spotted you, Frisk wasted no time – they crossed the living room in a flash and hugged you desperately. You hugged back.

You made eye contact with Papyrus. You could see it, no, _feel_ it – Papyrus’s guilt was palpable, like a hundred weights sitting upon his shoulders and neck, dragging him down.

How could you stay angry at him?

You extended your hand. Papyrus’s eyes widened in bewilderment.

“I forgive you.”

Papyrus wasted no time either – he crossed the living room in two giant steps and gathered all of you in his arms.

In the embrace of three people who cared about you, you allowed yourself to feel safe.

* * *

The rest of the day was a blur.

Sans and Frisk were glued to your side. Papyrus himself alternated between tip-toeing around you and fussing over you. He was still shaken.

You were bundled up in Papyrus’s comforter, the one you had slept on the couch with, and given a basin with hot water to warm your practically frozen feet.

(Sans had cackled when you told him exactly why you were missing your slippers. You supposed throwing them in your opponent’s face was an unorthodox method. He waved you off when you apologized for losing them. “s’okay. you were in pretty slippery situation after all. i’m just glad you got a leg up on her.” Even Papyrus cracked up.)

Lunch was leftover spaghetti from breakfast. Papyrus complimented you again, and got a genuine smile out of you. For dessert, another cinnamon bunny. You felt a little better.

You sat on the couch again, this time sandwiched between Sans and Frisk, with Papyrus sitting on the ground in front of you. A lovely nest. A safe nest.

Another Mettaton movie was plugged in, a romantic comedy this time. It was cheesy as all hell and you couldn’t concentrate on it, but it kept your mind of off _that_ and made for pleasant background noise, so it was alright.

Dinner was take away from Grillby’s. You were startled when the doorbell rang and burst out crying again. Everyone panicked. It was a mess. At least the food was tasty.

Then, bedtime came around.

* * *

Sleeping was impossible. You were tired, _so tired_ , but whenever you closed your eyes all you saw was Undyne and your SOUL.

You could feel Frisk’s soft breathing against your neck. They had fallen asleep hugging you for dear life, tiny hands fisted on your pajamas’ shirt and head tucked under your chin. Even their legs were wrapped around you, like a little spider monkey. It filled you with tenderness.

Papyrus’s snoring bounced of the bedroom’s walls. If it were anyone else, you’d find it incredibly obnoxious. But alas, it was Papyrus. Sweet, kind, naïve Papyrus.

You untangled yourself from Frisk and crept to the bathroom. You sat on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest, and cried as silently as possible. How did you have any tears left? Your eyes stung and your cheeks hurt.

The bathroom door opened and closed.

“heya.”

“Hey, Sans.”

He crouched down and patted your hair. You leaned into his touch and peeked from behind your knees. Sans was still wearing his famous basketball shorts-white shirt combo, only missing the blue jacket.

“Don’t you have pajamas?” Sans raised a bonebrow in amusement. “really? that’s what you’re gonna focus on?”

“Yep. Um, no.” You wiped your eyes and reached for the toilet paper, ripping out an edge to blow your nose on. A thought occurred to you, derailing your attempt to cut the bullshit.

“Do monster have snot?”

“come again?”

“I was just thinking, you guys seem to have tears and you clearly breathe but have no lungs.” Rambling mode was on. “And you eat too! Hell, I checked under the table when Paps was eating breakfast this morning and there was no hint whatsoever of all the spaghetti he wolfed down! How!?”

Sans guffawed. “that’s why you looked under the table? i thought you’d dropped something.”

“You don’t understand, Sans.” You puffed your chest dramatically and raised a clenched fist in front of you, trying to look ‘determined’, like a hero in a movie poster. “The nerd in me needs to know.”

The skeleton shook his head, still laughing. “i get it, i get it. i’m a certified nerd myself.” Holy shit, were you finally going to get come answers!? All sorts of questions about monsterkind had been eating you from the inside out ever since you left the Ruins, but you were too self-conscious to verbalize them. Apparently, anxiety had temporarily stripped you of your shame, so you were damn sure seizing the opportunity!

Sans shrugged lazily, as per usual. “i dunno. magic?”

Disappointment is not a big enough word to cover your feelings on the matter.

“Wow. Great answer. Ten out of ten. Much amaze.” You deadpanned.

Sans theatrically put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “wow. that hurts. are you that deter-mina-ed on the subject?”

“You already used that joke.”

“recycling is good for the planet.”

You gave him your best menacing grin. “Did you know sulfuric acid can dissolve bones in twelve hours if you add in water, _bone man_?”

Sans grinned challengingly. “ooh, is that a threat?” You absently twirled a strand of hair around your finger, the picture of innocence. “Maybe.”

You stared fixedly at each other for a few seconds before breaking into a giggling fit. It was simply stunning how Sans always managed to cheer you up. A clever pun, a lame pun, some friendly teasing, an affectionate gesture – all to let you know he was there and he had your back. He never pushed your limits, but never abandoned you either.

“I wish you’d been on the surface, Sans.” You spoke candidly. You bashfully averted your gaze to the carpet and started picking on loose strands with your nails. “If I had someone like you… maybe stuff wouldn’t have been so bad.”

Silence. Oh God, you felt so awkward now. You shouldn’t have said that. Why did you say that? Where was your ever-present paranoid brain-to-mouth filter when you needed it the most?

(If experience had taught you anything, it was how easy it was to love someone so dearly, only to find out you were just a convenience for them. An extra. Completely and utterly replaceable.)

Hard phalanges pried your hand from the carpet. Sans smiled softly.

What did you do to deserve such a precious smile?

“me too. you’re, uh, one heck of a friend.” He scratched the back of his head. Twice shy, huh?

“Is it selfish for me to stay alive?” you blurted out. “Undyne said you needed one more SOUL to be free.” You were rambling again. Pity the topic was much more morbid. “And humans were the ones that trapped you here, right? Should I have died?” You congratulated yourself for phrasing that as a question rather than a statement.

“no.” Sans’s voice was firm. It was comforting. “it’s not your job – or frisk’s for that matter – to atone for something humans did thousands of years ago. It doesn’t matter what other monsters say. it doesn’t matter what _undyne_ says.” He squeezed your hand as he said it. He saw right through you. He always did.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Okay. Can you- can you talk to Papyrus, please? Tell him that I _do_ forgive him? I don’t think he believes me…”

“you really aren’t mad?” Sans inquired.

“No. More like annoyed, I guess. Paps just sped up the inevitable, Undyne would find out one way or another. I’m actually kinda glad the cat’s outta the bag. One less thing I’ll have to worry about. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat fish anytime soon, though- uh, why are you staring at me like that…?”

Sans didn’t answer. He just lunged forward and hugged you.

* * *

Sans didn’t know what to say.

Papyrus, as well-intentioned as he was, had put you in mortal danger. Sans was still angry about it (as much as he hated being angry at his brother, but he had warned him!). And yet, you held no grudge. You were _worried_ for him, of all things.

You questioned whether it was selfish for you to live. Most would just think ‘not my problem’ and go on their merry way.

Not you, though.

Perhaps it was just your self-loathing talking. Perhaps Sans was making a big deal out of nothing.

_“I wish you’d been on the surface, Sans. If I had someone like you… maybe stuff wouldn’t have been so bad.”_

Sans wished you had been in the Underground. If he had someone like you…

If Frisk had you…

Maybe there wouldn’t have been any need for resets.

No. Sans was done playing the “what if” game. He had you now, and he wasn’t letting go.

Sans didn’t know what to say. So, he resigned himself to holding you tight.

* * *

Oh. Ooh boy.

Was it just you, or did it get hot in there?

“Sans?” you squeaked out. No answer. Your face was melting. You tried again.

“Saaaaans?”

“…just giving ya a well-deserved hug.” You could feel the rumble of Sans’s voice through his ribcage. Ooooooooooooh boy.

Sans let go, took one good look at your face, and whatever he had been preparing to say devolved into rambunctious laughter. You prayed to the same gods that had favored you yesterday not to abandon their faithful servant and keep Papyrus and Frisk asleep.

“you shoulda seen your face! you’re redder than a tomato!” Really, Sans!? Really!? You were having a moment and you freaking ruined it!

You grasped the sides of Sans’s skull-

“woah, mina?” 

-and planted a kiss right in the middle of his toothy grin, obnoxious ‘muah!’ sound and everything.

“You’re blue now. That’s my special attack!” You told the paralyzed, blue-faced skeleton. “A-and a go-goodnight kiss! Bye Sans!”

Then you ran back to Papyrus’s room, shut the door, plopped down on the mattress (earning a groan from Frisk) and screamed internally for one hour until you fell asleep.

* * *

You knocked softly on the wooden door.

“…Sans? Breakfast’s ready? And… uh… edible?” You nervously tapped your foot. Ah shit, he was mad you had kissed him. Why had you kissed him!? Sure, you had a crush on the guy but you knew him for two days and panicked on him thrice or something and holy shit this was exactly the kind of thing your mother had taught you about but it felt so right OH GOOOOD.

“knock knock.” You put your mental freak out on hold.

“…Who’s there?”

“kiss.” FUCK.

“…K-kiss who?”

The door opened. Sans grinned mischievously, as per usual.

“kiss me good morning.” He waggled his browbones. Oh god.

A string of incoherent babbling was the only thing you could produce.

He stepped outside and closed the door with his foot.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK-

“just kidding!”

…

Okay. Not gonna lie. You were disappointed.

Sans began making his way downstairs. “what’s for breakfast?”

“Eh? Uh, erm, spaghetti.” So much grace in a single sentence.

“heh. figured as much.” He halted to a stop and turned to face you. “oh, by the way, i wanted you to meet an old friend. is that okay with you?”

An old friend of Sans? That definitively intrigued you. “Uh, sure thing.”

“nice.” He replied, satisfied. “you might wanna change clothes, though.”

“she lives in a pretty _hot_ place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you smooched a skelly!!! and who does sans want you to meet? find out - in the next chapter!


	12. Meet The Scientist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm baaack! sorry for the delay, the holidays were pretty hectic and i'm now in the middle of exam season, so i've been quite busy. thank you so much for the comments and kudos, it warms my heart that my little story got so many people interested! Now, onwards with the story!

You splashed water into your face and stared into the bathroom mirror. You could do this. You could totally do this.

You stepped into the hallway and immediately spied Sans talking with Frisk on the first floor. They noticed you and waved, while Sans gave you a lazy smile. And just like that, your whole body was on fire.

Nope nope nope nope. You nope’d your way back inside the bathroom, closed the door and unceremoniously slid to the ground, grabbing a fistful of the fluffy carpet that you had become so intimate with last night _._

“ _Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.”_

Breakfast had been about just as awkward as the day before. You stuffed your face full of spaghetti so you didn’t have a chance to say anything stupid that could bury you further into the metaphorical hole you had oh-so-expertly dug yourself into (and made a mental note to change the menu for tomorrow because, quite frankly, you were beginning to get sick of spaghetti. Not that you’d tell Papyrus. Ever). You blocked out Sans’s presence (again) and slipped away from the table to get changed in order to avoid Frisk’s gaze boring into your skull (again). God, they had been staring so hard you thought they might just spontaneously develop telepathy out of pure determination.

You managed to scrape together a half-decent outfit to meet Sans’s friend. You were on your way to the bathroom when you ran into Papyrus.

“OH, HELLO TALLER HUMAN! I SEE YOU’VE CHANGED CLOTHING! YOU LOOK VERY NICE!” Papyrus looked you up and down and nodded in approval. He seemed much more comfortable talking to you. Sans must’ve already spoken to him (bless his skull). On another note, did you take that long to change?

Considering you ran around Papyrus’s room like a headless chicken trying to figure out _how the hell you were going to survive being with Sans without imploding_ and spilled all of your backpack’s contents on the floor in the meantime, yeah, you probably did.

“ARE YOU GOING ON A DATE WITH SANS?”

_Oh, for fuck's sake_ -

“WHA-no!” Your voice went up at least three octaves. “We’re just, ah, going to h-hang out with um- you know- a friend of his! Yeah! And it’s, like, erm, eh, super platonic and stuff! The most platonic of dates! For friends! You know!?” You had the fakest grin plastered on your face and were sweating buckets. Why, Paps? Why?

Was your crush that obvious?

…Probably.

He was silent for a few seconds (in fact, the longest seconds of your life), but eventually bought it. “I SEE! WELL THEN, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WISHES YOU A MARVELOUS TOTALLY PLATONIC DATE WITH SANS.” Beat. “AND HIS FRIEND!” He lifted you up into a bear hug and then trotted downstairs.

That was when you initially ran into your unofficial sanctuary of internal screaming- AKA, the bathroom.

You slapped your own cheeks like movie characters did to psyche themselves up. It hurt, you winced. It was stupid, you were stupid.

“Come _oooooon_! Get a hold of yourself, Mina!” You tugged your hair in frustration. Sans wasn’t mad about the kiss. He’d even joked about it! He took it in stride! There was nothing to be nervous about!

Oh, who were you kidding.

In times as dire as these, you only had one option: ignore the problem until it blows up in your face.

(Best. Strategy. _Ever_.)

You stood up and straightened your clothes. You could do this. You could totally do this.

Having barely taken a step outside, you ran into Frisk.

Brown eyes glinted impishly. Uh oh.

They signed slowly, deliberately. **“Hello, Mina. You look very pretty this morning.”** They fluttered their lashes innocently. Too bad their devilish grin gave them away.

Gulp. “…Thanks, Frisk.”

**“Is it because you’re going on a date with Sans?”** Frisk drawled. Oh God. Not them too!

“Why does everyone think I’m going on date with him!?” You squeaked.

Frisk cocked their head in confusion. **“You’re not? But, don’t you like him?”** Yep, your crush was obvious. So damn obvious, in fact, that your nine year old best friend had picked up on it. Couldn’t a hole do you the kindness of opening up and swallowing you into the core of the Earth? At this point, you preferred death by burning alive over death by embarrassment. It would look better in the obituary.

“It’s… complicated.” You ran a hand through your hair and sighed. Frisk regarded you patiently, waiting for you to elaborate. “Please don’t tell Sans.”

Frisk huffed and pursed their lips in a mixture of disappointment and annoyance. **“Adults are too complicated. If you like each other, than you should date! Silly Mina.”**

“I know. But, please bear with me. I can trust you to have my back, right partner?” You pleaded. Frisk beamed in delight and tackled you, nearly knocking you off balance. You giggled and kissed the top of their head.

**“Of course! I’ll be cheering you on!”** Satisfied with your exchange, Frisk took off into Papyrus’s room.

With jittery feet, you took your sweet time climbing down the stairs. Trepidation crawled up your spine. Oh God. Oh dear. You were doing this!

Sans had fallen asleep waiting for you against the doorframe. His eyesockets were closed and his jaw was slightly slack, a small trail of blueish drool running down his chin. You could hear light snoring.

All of your trepidation dispersed, replaced by chuckling and a swell of affection in your chest. He looked adorable. You walked over and poked his cheekbone. It was surprisingly pliable, like play-doh but harder. He stirred and cracked open an eyesocket. “huh?”

“Rise and shine, sleepybones.” You sing-songed.

“trying to get a rise out of me already?”

“Weak. Also, there’s drool on your chin.”

“oh. heh, thanks.” Sans blushed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Cute skelly alert! “so, ready to go?”

“Yessir.” You mock-saluted him.

“no need to be so formal. salute a trouble.” You rolled your eyes. “Step up your game, skele-man.”

“ok.”

Suddenly, Sans vanished from sight. You stared frozen at the spot he had just been standing on not a second ago. What the fuck just happened!?

“over here.” You whipped around to find Sans sitting on the stairwell. “get on my level, nerd.”

Did he just fucking _teleport_!?

“i prefer to call it ‘making a shortcut’.” Oh. You said it out loud. That was just like you. “also, gee, watch your language, the kid is still in earshot.” You were far too engrossed in this discovery to worry over the purity of Frisk’s ears.

“Holy crap! How!? Magic?! Is it your magic? Can Paps do it too!? This is so cool! Holy shit! Ho-lee shit!” You squealed, overwhelmed by happiness. You were having he biggest nerdgasm of your whole freaking life, because, well, TELEPORTATION, DUDE. SO. FREAKING. _COOL_!

Sans teleported in front of you and covered your mouth with his hand. You felt a childish urge to lick it. Don’t do it, Mina. For God’s sake, have some self-control! “alright, alright. we can talk on the way to hotland.” You tried to speak but it came out as a garbled mess. Sans retracted his hand. “watcha say?”

“Is that where your friend lives? _Hot_ land? Where the weather is, how did you put it, _pretty hot_?”

“uh uh.”

“…I don’t know whether I should laugh or cry.”

Sans winked. “laugh. your laugh’s cute.”

You melted into a giggling puddle. Damn you, Sans.

* * *

“So, like, you can make a tiny wormhole? Does it take a lot of energy? How big is your range?”

Sans shrugged. “it depends on the distance. if I’ve been to a place before, i can make a shortcut there. which is pretty much anywhere in the underground. ‘s small place.”

Oh. Your shoulders sagged. “That’s… why you can’t use your magic to leave, then.”

“pretty much.”

“…I’m sorry.” Sans shook his head and nudged your side. “it’s not worth it.”

How frustrating must it be, to be so close and yet so far? You heart sank. It was heavy for Sans and Papyrus. It was heavy for Toriel. Such kind people, imprisoned down here…. And it was humanity’s fault.

(Of course it was humanity’s fault. Humans treated each other like scum, be it through all-out war and corruption or much more insidious methods. Like the ones you had had a front-row seat to. Why would they treat another species any better?)

“did you know I’m not lazy?”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. Of course Sans would try to cheer you up when he should be the one feeling down. “Is that so?”

“yep. I’m actually overflowing with potential energy.”

“Pfft. Hey, if you where on the moon, do you know where you’d live?”

“surprise me.”

“The dork side of the moon.”

“heh.”

One day, you’d repay Sans. One day.

* * *

You waved goodbye at the Riverperson after they dropped you off in Hotland. Which was, indeed, very hot.

Soon enough, an enormous pristine white building came into view, rising imposingly in the middle of the orange rocky path. Above the double doors, “Lab” was written in bright red letters.

“Wow.”

“heh. you’ve seen nothing.”

Sans knocked on the door. Rapid scuffling sounded from inside, followed by the whirring and fanning of machinery.

The doors opened, revealing a dinosaur/lizard(?) like monster. She was roughly your height, with bright yellow scales, cute buck teeth and small black eyes, which studied you avidly from behind round, thin-rimmed glasses. She wore a beaten lab coat that once been white, now a muted gray, large reptilian feet peeking from under it. You thought you could see a tail too.

She gawked, completely taken aback. “O-Oh! He-hello Sans! I, uh, didn’t expect you!”

“hi alphys. ‘s ok. i wanna introduce you to a pal o’ mine.”

Sans pushed you in front of him. You staggered forward, stupefied, and narrowly avoided crashing into Alphys. Amazing. Wonderful. Off to a great start.

Silence. Alphys fidgeted. Oh, that was your cue!

“Ah, hello! It’s- I mean- I’m Mina, it’s- uh, a pleasure to meet you, um, Alphys right?” What were words? What were sentences?

Alphys clasped her hands excitedly. “Oh, I-I know who you-you are!” There was indeed a tail, and it was wagging wildly behind her. “Ever since the little one- Frisk, yes? Since F-Frisk left the Ruins, I’ve been, um, ‘observing’ their journey! Through my console!”

Observing? Console?

“alphys is the royal scientist. she helps manage the core – the power source for all of the underground. she has cameras everywhere too, to look out for humans. also to evacuate monsters in case of emergency.” Sans piped in.

“Ye-ye-yes! But, it’s never c-c-come t-to that!”

Wait a minute. Cameras everywhere. She knew Frisk. That meant cameras in Snowdin. And in Snowdin, Frisk fought Papyrus. And then...

“You… _Awww crap_!” You covered your face, mortified. You could feel the blush spreading rapidly through your ears, neck and cheeks, covering your skin in unbearable heat. Oh man, Alphys had seen your meltdown! Was there anyone in the Underground who hadn’t seen you cry yet!? Why was it that making atrocious first impressions seemed to be your only talent!?

“Oh, oh no, oh no, I upset you! D-don’t worry!” Alphys awkwardly put her hands on your shoulders. They were ridiculously sweaty, and her claws were a little too sharp for comfort. She could use a manicure. “I-I-I’m a loser t-too!”

...That hurt. A compromising silence settled between you.

Alphys began stuttering so badly she was actually vibrating. “N-n-n-n-n-nn-n—n-nn-n—not that I-I-I th-think you’re a, um, hahahahahahaha a lo-lo-lo-loser? I- I- meant- b-by society’s stan-d-darts w-we are beca-aause _Oh god_ ”

“alphys-“

Alphys exhaled, her body rattling as the air left her lungs. She shook like a leaf caught in a thunderstorm. “I-I-I’m the lo-loser” She choked out. Was she crying? Oh, gee! “I ca-can’t m-ma-ake friends no-normally…”

Make friends normally.

_“Can’t you act normally for once? That’s why you don’t have friends.”_

_But, what does that mean? How do you ‘act normally’? How do you ‘make friends normally’?_

_“Are you kidding me? That’s, like, instinct! Everyone knows that. Ugh, forget it. You’re a lost cause.”_

_It’s not instinctual. It can’t be. I can’t be the only one like this._

_A cruel laugh. “Of course you’re not the only one! You’re just one in a million rejects! So, be a good little weirdo and join them, okay?”_

It dawned on you, why Sans brought you here. She was just like you, wasn’t she?

“No, you’re right.”

You removed your hands from your face and covered Alphys’s, interrupting her rant. Her black eyes shone, watery and wide. “If you’re a loser, then so am I. So, what do you say we become loser friends?”

Alphys gaped. “You- want to be my friend? I- yes! I’d, I’d like that!” Like sunshine after heavy rain, Alphys’s glee broke through her anxiety. The lines on her face from scrunching it in affliction smoothed out (well, as much as scales can ‘smooth out’), making way for a broad smile.

It lasted all of two seconds.

She suddenly gasped in horror. “O-Oh, I’ve b-been kee-keeping you outside, ha-haven’t I? I-I’m sorry, that’s so rude of me! Please, come in! Oh, wait no! I-I didn’t have time to clean! Everything is so dirty!”

Sans interjected at that. “it’s alright. we don’t mind a little dirt.”

You scoffed. “Right. It’d be hypocritical of you otherwise, wouldn’t it? Mr. I-leave-my-socks-around-the-house-and-never-pick-‘em-up.”

He inched towards you. “looking to pick up a fight?”

“No, because I’d whoop your figurative ass.”

“that’d be a distr-ass-ing situation.”

“Now you’re just making an ass out of yourself.”

“ass-uming you aren’t? that’s cheeky.”

“You underestimate my m-ass-tery.”

“Ohmygoshyou’remynewotp.”

What.

“what.”

Alphys blanched. “N-nothing! Pl-please come in!”

And then she dashed inside.

* * *

Remember when you thought you were sick of spaghetti? Well, that sickness apparently didn’t extend to cup noodles. Which was why you were slurping them down completely elated, next to a snickering Sans and a still-fidgety-but-much-more-at-ease Alphys.

The doctor had cleared a small space in her messy worktable (it reminded you of the state of your desk during exam season) for all of you to sit around, neatly packing against the wall piles upon piles of haphazard papers which would probably require you to get three PhDs to understand even the basics of what was written there.

When you spotted an empty package of cup noodles and commented that it was your favorite flavor, Alphys, eager to please, quickly retrieved another one from her fridge (which was stock-full of them) and heated it up for you. You thanked her profusely.

All in all, it was a peaceful, pleasant atmosphere.

“alph. can I talk to you for a sec?” Alphys jumped in her seat. “Sure!” Okay, that was suspicious.

“don’t worry babe, i’ll be right back.” Sans pressed his teeth against the side of your head. A kiss? Little shit, he was teasing you. You thought you heard Alphys squeal. They got up and left to a more secluded part of the lab.

You focused on savoring your noodles, hoping that perhaps you could use them to bury the growing dread pooling in the pit your stomach.

Ten minutes later, give or take, the pair returned. You put down your chopsticks.

“mina”

“would you let alphys take a look at your SOUL?”


End file.
